


Challenge Four: Bound

by Pornalot



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Pornalot, Pornalot 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-20 23:17:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11931414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pornalot/pseuds/Pornalot
Summary: Entries for the fourth Pornalot 2017 weekly challenge: Bound





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Behold the porny entries for week four of the 2017 Pornalot fest!
> 
> Each entry has individual warnings but they have not been mod-checked so proceed at your own risk.
> 
> Please vote for your favourite entries! All you need is an LJ account :D You can vote [HERE](http://pornalot.livejournal.com/13015.html)

1

 **Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Warning:** Dom/Sub, Rope Bondage, Mention of Bad BDSM Etiquette, and knowing too much for it to be passing knowledge

The first time Arthur saw him was at a munch. He was laid back and friendly with everyone at the event. Arthur, who had been out of the game for a few years, scarcely talked with anyone and left early.

The next time Arthur saw him was at Shibari 101, where he introduced himself as “Merlin, I’ll be your rope instructor for the evening.” In the next three hours, Merlin had proved himself to be an expert: running through the types of ropes, basic knots, and safety. Arthur had been the only pupil without a partner, but Merlin had provided a dummy without any questions. 

At the end of the class, Arthur had asked Merlin what rope he recommended. “Hemp’s the most popular, but my favorite’s bamboo-silk. It’s horribly expensive, but it’s worth it just to please my sub.” Arthur, who hadn’t felt any arousal all night, felt a shiver run up his spine.

The third time he saw Merlin was at Morgana’s birthday party. They spent most of the party together. It was late at night (perhaps early morning) when they found themselves sharing a blanket on Morgana’s balcony, stargazing.

Merlin whispered, “At the rope class…you didn’t have a partner.” There was a question in there.

“I’m single, if that’s what you’re asking.” Arthur smiled at Merlin’s coy expression.

“No rope bunny to play with?” Merlin teased.

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. It wasn’t the first time someone had misjudged.

“No Master to play with.” Arthur corrected. “I took the rope class… for sub safety.” He let that hand in the air. 

Merlin reached over and squeezed Arthur’s hand. “Bad experience?”

“My own naiveté” Arthur whispered. “Blind trust in a dom who couldn’t have cared less.”

Merlin leaned his head on Arthur’s shoulder. He didn’t say anything, like he knew all Arthur needed was a warm hand to hold his own.

They skirted around each other for weeks before Arthur finally asked out Merlin (who looked stunned, like he hadn’t thought Arthur would want him.) They dated, falling into place easily. Arthur was almost scared by how much Merlin understood him, and in turn, how much he understood Merlin. The sex, despite being vanilla, was amazing. But it had taken Arthur ages to figure out that Merlin was waiting for him to ask for anything more.

The first scene he had with Merlin (the first since the disaster years ago) had been the best experience of Arthur’s life. The immediate subdrop following the session? Had not been.

But it had certainly been the best aftercare he had ever received. (Merlin balked when Arthur told him so.) By the time he had calmed down, he was crying just because Merlin was holding him, nothing to do with the sudden mood drop.

They found their limits, shifted and changed scenes for each other’s likings. Then, before Arthur realized it, they had been dating for a year.

On their anniversary, Merlin brought home a conspicuous black bag.

As Arthur kissed him hello, Merlin whispered against his lips, “I have a present for you.”

“For me?” Arthur had thought it was something for both of them.

Merlin smiled shyly, pulling out a bundle of red rope. Bamboo-Silk Rope.

“Yes” Arthur hissed out before Merlin could even speak, dragging Merlin into a lascivious kiss, licking and biting. Last month, when Arthur had suggested rope, Merlin had refused despite it being one of his favorites (and specialties). Merlin was worried, since Arthur’s last partner had ruined Arthur’s trust when he was bound. They had avoided extensive bondage up until now. But Arthur had been craving that total release of control, the feeling of being bound, and the blissful safety of Merlin’s well-crafted knots.

Arthur all but hauled Merlin into the bedroom, but as soon as the door shut, Merlin was in charge.

Merlin stayed dressed as he stripped Arthur bare. “Hands above your head. Feet shoulder-width apart. Don’t move until I’ve finished tying.” Arthur obeyed, already settling into the scene comfortably. Merlin purred, “You’d look so pretty in a karada, pet. I’ve thought about it for a long time.” A single finger ran down Arthur’s spine, dipping between his plump cheeks where the rope would slip. “All that red rope against your skin, pulled taught by my hand.”

Arthur groaned, “Please, Sir.” 

It took ages. Merlin’s hands were efficient, but he took his time, reverently running those gorgeous hands up and down Arthur’s body, from his thick thighs to the trembling biceps which held his hands above his head. Merlin tweaked his nipples as he pulled the rope across Arthur’s chest and expertly tested the give on every strand. As he threaded the knot right behind Arthur’s balls, a finger skimmed over his hole. “Trust me?”

“Yes, Sir.” Arthur leaned his head back, opening himself for a kiss.

Merlin rewarded him, kissing him fleetingly before continuing. Using their best lube, Merlin fingered Arthur until he was trembling in place, feeling the warming gel run down his thighs. When Merlin suddenly slipped the butt plug in, Arthur cried out with surprise and pleasure.

As Merlin finished tying the karada, each pull of the rope rocked the butt plug into Arthur’s ass. When done, the entire thing laced Arthur in tight red rope, rubbing against his hyper-sensitive skin.

Merlin laid him on the bed and used the remaining rope to tie Arthur’s hands over his head. The instant Merlin finished, every muscle in Arthur’s body unwound, reaching that euphoric state of complete safety.

“Such a good sub,” Merlin whispered as he took his time playing with Arthur. He stroked Arthur’s straining cock in a loose grip and kissed him intermittently. He spanked Arthur’s ass sore, toyed with the plug, tapping it lightly, and then fucking it into Arthur. It was ages before Arthur was allowed to come and even more time before Merlin pulled out his cock for Arthur to suck.

And when they were trembling and sated, Merlin kissed every rope mark left behind on Arthur’s body.

 

2

 **Warnings** : restraints, voyeurism  
 **Pairing** : Merlin/Arthur, Arthur/Leon, Arthur/Merlin/Leon

As Merlin peeked through the cracked door, he could see a secured-to-the-wall Arthur pressed up against the stall, a naked Leon kneeling before him, slowly undoing the prince’s breeches. Arthur looked completely blissed out as he moaned incoherently.

Merlin knew he should leave the two to it but there was no way he was going anywhere. His fantasy since the age of twelve had been to be in a threesome, and this might be the closest he ever got to that. He and Arthur were great together—Arthur knew what Merlin liked and how he liked to be a complete submissive, pliant in his master’s hands, but adding a third… well, that was a dream of Merlin’s.

“Ready Sire?” Leon asked as his hands fondled Arthur’s foreskin and his mouth hovered oh so near the straining cock.

There was no vocal reply, but a vociferous nod was all the answer Leon needed before he engulfed Arthur.

Merlin had to swallow his moan. Leon’s hands caressed Arthur’s hipbones fondly as his mouth continued to work on Arthur’s cock. It was the hottest thing Merlin had ever seen. Arthur had his eyes closed and looked nothing less than beautiful, which made Merlin wish it was him instead of Leon sucking off Arthur. Merlin closed his eyes and imagined Arthur looking down at him from his place against the wall, begging him to suck him harder.

Unable to stop himself, Merlin undid his breeches, stuck his hand inside, and fondled his cock. It wouldn’t take much for him to come, but he wanted to make it last; he wanted to come with Arthur.

“Fuck, Leon, harder!”

Merlin sped up his movements. “Arthur,” he whispered as quietly as he could, but when he opened his eyes, two sets of eyes were looking at him, Leon looking feral, his lips still caressing the cock he’d been sucking, Arthur looking bemused as he hung on the wall.

“Fuck,” Merlin said, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He did up his breeches and tried to look innocent.

“Having fun, are we?” Arthur asked, a cheeky grin on his face.

Merlin was most assuredly not having fun. Or, he had been, but now he would like it if the ground swallowed him whole. There was no way he would ever live this down.

Arthur said something unintelligible and Leon undid his restraints and whispered something in Arthur’s ear. Merlin wasn’t amused. Whatever was going to happen, he wished Arthur would get on with it. Arthur chuckled, shook his head and whispered something else. Merlin’s heart dropped; he didn’t appreciate being made fun of. Leon nodded as he looked at Merlin and winked. Merlin swallowed. This wasn’t going to be good. He was in for it now. 

He was so royally fucked.

“Leon and I thought we were alone, Merlin; we don’t much appreciate the idea of putting on a show for your entertainment. Leon thought that we should send you out to stand naked in the stocks for the night in punishment for overstepping your boundaries, but I have another idea. As a compromise, we’ve decided to give you a choice. You can either strip and go stand in the stocks until first light or you can join us and let Leon suck you off while I fuck you.”

Merlin stood there—he knew his mouth must be wide open—and stared. Was this real? He had to be dreaming.

He really was about to be royally fucked.

“Make your decision and close your mouth, Merlin; you look like a damned fish.” Arthur said as he let out another chuckle.

His decision made, Merlin opened the door completely and entered, his breath speeding up. He went to remove his tunic, but Arthur shook his head. Merlin swallowed as Leon approached and took him by the hand before leading him over to Arthur, who promptly began divesting Merlin of his clothing. Merlin closed his eyes as he felt Arthur undoing his breeches and as he felt Leon behind him removing his tunic. Merlin’s cock was already hard from earlier events, but now he felt as if he was about to burst.

“Don’t you dare come until I am inside you. I want to fill up your arse as you paint Leon’s throat with your come,” Arthur said, his voice raspy as he retrieved a jar of something and began preparing Merlin’s arse. Merlin felt somewhat silly as he stood there and allowed himself to be turned and prodded, but the knowledge of what was to come made up for any self-conscious thoughts he had.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Leon said as he looked at Arthur and caught something that had been thrown to him. “Your hands will be tied behind your back. You won’t need them.” Leon grinned.

Merlin allowed Leon to bind his hands behind his back and felt as Arthur helped him down to the hay-covered floor of the stables. He could only hope there was no manure anywhere near.

Leon’s mouth was on him within seconds and it felt amazing. Merlin closed his eyes and was sure there was no way he would last long. “Now, Arthur,” he ground out, not wanting to disobey his master’s previous orders.

Arthur obliged him and was buried inside Merlin in the next few seconds.

The sensations were overwhelming. Merlin could hear himself making all matter of embarrassing noises. He had always liked to fuck; it was one of his favorite past times, but this, being part of a threesome, took things to an entirely new level of euphoria. Having someone on his cock and in his arse was a glorious thing and he thought he would never tire of the sensation.

When Arthur came, Merlin went with him, and it wasn’t a few seconds later that Leon came. Merlin collapsed and felt Arthur caressing his hips.

“Seems as though you talking in your sleep does have advantages after all,” Arthur said before he leant over and kissed Merlin.

 

3

 **Warnings:** None  
 **Pairing:** Arthur/Merlin

The last lap of Arthur's morning run took him past a stretch of old woodland that had been preserved when the modern city and its new university rose up around it.

This early, there were no other people around. The fall air was fresh and crisp, and it was so quiet that even the smallest sound carried among the yellowing trees. Suddenly, over the steady thud of his own heartbeat, Arthur thought he heard something else— a bird's call, or a human scream? He stopped, listening intently.

He could hear it clearly now. From the depths of the wood, a voice was calling for help.

Arthur left the footpath, moving cautiously towards the sound. 

He thought he was prepared for anything, but nevertheless the sight took him aback. A naked body was dangling upside down, held in place by a rope knot tied tightly around one ankle, and suspended from the lofty branch of a tall tree. 

It looked like a human sacrifice, or some sort of torture. But at least the body was moving. 

"Hello?" Arthur said. "Let me help you."

"Thank God!" The body came alive, its free limbs flopping about. Bright blue eyes squinted up at Arthur from a strained and slightly distorted face. "I thought this was it!"

"What happened?" Arthur asked, surveying the situation, looking for clues. "Who did this to you?" 

The dangling man let loose an exhausted laugh. "I did this to me. For an art project at uni, only it went bollocks up, as it were. See my camera over there somewhere?" He raised his arm into the air and flailed in Arthur's general direction, causing his entire body to start a pendulum motion. 

The voice and those eyes clicked in Arthur's mind. "Merlin!" he exclaimed, amazed. 

"Yes, yes, help me get down, will you, and then we can do the whole banter thing?"

"Of course." 

Arthur became all efficiency. He couldn't reach Merlin's bound ankle from the ground. The long end of the rope with its curious loop-like knots didn't look solid enough for Arthur to use it. He'd have to climb the tree.

He clambered up the thick bole with relative ease, and soon edged out onto the branch that carried Merlin's weight. Luckily, it proved solid enough to hold both of them. 

Below him, Merlin swung from the rope, legs splayed, the ruddy underside of his ball sack on full display as good old gravity pulled every dangly bit towards earth. Under other circumstances, Arthur would have loved to linger over this unusual and interesting view.

Now, he just leaned down, got a good grip on the rope, and said; "I'm going to pull you up here. Then we can untie you together."

"Fine, fine, do it!" Merlin wheezed.

Merlin was heavier than Arthur had anticipated, but he himself was strong and fit. Pulling on the rope, he soon managed to grip Merlin's leg with one hand, and reach one flailing hand with his other. He heaved Merlin's pale form up onto the branch. 

It was early morning, and Arthur was sitting face to face with the naked man of his dreams, on the branch of a tree in the middle of nowhere. It was a bit surreal.

Merlin grinned weakly at him. "I'm so relieved. I honestly thought I would lose my foot, or die! Look, I'm shaking!" 

Tremors rippled through Merlin's entire body. Arthur took his hands and squeezed the fingers gently. "That's a combination of strain, stress, and cold. Sit for a moment, get your bearings, let me rub your ankle, and then we'll get you inside somewhere where it's warm."

"Yes," Merlin muttered, and lowered his head. "Warmth would be good."

"You mentioned an art project?" Arthur asked, wanting to focus Merlin's thoughts on something else than the frightening helplessness he'd endured.

"It's an art film project I'm working on with Gwaine. 'Nudes Ascending'. I had made a makeshift ladder out of this rope, see? But when I placed my foot in the topmost loop, it slipped around my ankle and pulled tight. And my body weight just pulled it tighter, the more I struggled to untie the knot. I've been trying and trying to reach the branch, and to climb up the rope, and it's been impossible!" Merlin's voice rose in intensity, and his teeth were chattering.

Arthur deemed it was time for them to move. "There, there. Easy now," he said. "It would be Gwaine. That guy is crazy."

Even in his miserable state, Merlin was offended. "I take full responsibility for my own art fails, thank you."

Arthur laughed. "Come on, let's get going."

Back on solid ground, Merlin's body displayed lean muscles and wiry strength, and his cock and balls looked every bit as tempting from this conventional angle. Arthur's mouth watered. He looked away, ashamed of himself. 

"Where are your clothes?" he asked. "I hope you didn't walk all the way out here without a stich on?"

Merlin hobbled over to some nearby bushes and pulled out a bag. He managed to dress himself, then picked up his camera, checking the settings. "Yeah, it caught my whole ordeal," he muttered. "Hadn't intended for it to be a horror film, though."

"At least it's got a happy ending," Arthur smiled. 

Merlin looked up with a small glint in his eye. "Happier by the minute," he confirmed.

They walked slowly back towards town together. 

"I finally got to see you in the buff," Arthur mused. "But these weren't the optimal circumstances."

Merlin cocked an eye at him. "You've been wanting to see me in the buff?" 

"Yes," Arthur admitted. "I've fancied you for a long time. You're a looker, you know."

"Not so bad yourself," Merlin murmured. He didn't speak for a moment. "Let's say we were to meet under better circumstances. What would you do?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but— " Arthur grinned. "I'd climb you like a tree!"

 

4

 **Warnings:** Brief mention of potential non-con, deals with the aftermath of kidnapping and torture.  
 **Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur

When they bring Arthur home, he is silent.

There are injuries. Bruises on his wrists, scars. Old blood in the shadows under his eyes.

Merlin isn’t too worried by those: he knows better than anyone that the body can heal, even when the mind almost wishes it wouldn’t. More worrying is the way that Arthur broods, staring out of his window for hours and saying nothing about his ordeal.

More worrying are the dreams.

Merlin is the one to wake him, more often than not. When Arthur disappeared – was taken – he’d slept in the antechamber every night, and now that Arthur is back not even the assembled might of the Sidhe could tear Merlin from his side. He knows that Arthur has nightmares. Knows, too, that when he wakes his first thought is to get away, just to ensure that he can.

There are things Arthur is holding back, characteristic and uncompromising, but apparently he has no intention of giving in to fear.

“This is a terrible idea.”

“It’s also an order, _Mer_ lin,” Arthur says, his gaze steely. He has the ropes already knotted around his wrists, wrapped over soft cloths to prevent them from chafing. He’s clearly been thinking about this for a while. 

“Arthur…”

“Do it,” Arthur commands.

Biting his tongue, Merlin ties the ropes securely to the bedposts, until Arthur sits spreadeagled and defenceless in the centre of the bed. His breath is coming fast, his arms taut against the bindings, and Merlin’s heart twists. 

“Arthur, I don’t think– ”

“Shut _up_ , Merlin.”

He’s gritting his teeth, as if bracing himself will do any good. It’s so like Arthur that Merlin can’t keep from smiling, helpless, as he realises perhaps he has been wrong. He still thinks this is a ridiculous idea, but he knows Arthur. The prince is never going to rest until he has overcome everything fate throws at him, and maybe that’s exactly what he needs.

“This isn’t going to work,” Merlin says, toeing off his boots and clambering onto the bed. Arthur looks at him askance, and Merlin kneels in front of him, trying to nerve himself up for what he’s about to do. “If you just sit there like that, you’re going to keep dwelling on what happened. You need,” he licks his lips, “a distraction.”

Arthur’s eyes darken. “A distraction.”

Merlin nods. “Something to help you relax.”

There’s a pause. Merlin waits, heart pounding, as Arthur thinks it over. Gaius had assured him that there’d been no sign of any– _other_ abuses when he examined the prince, but if Arthur had somehow concealed it, if there’s something behind his silence other than guilt and fear…

“Go on, then.”

Blowing out his breath, Merlin crawls into Arthur’s lap and straddles him. Arthur tips back his head to meet him with a kiss, and Merlin lets out a desperate sound. He hadn’t known how much he’d missed this, missed _Arthur_ until now. He licks into Arthur’s mouth, pressing him back against the headboard, and feels a surge of triumph when Arthur responds in kind, rolling his hips so that Merlin can feel his burgeoning cock through the fabric of his shift. 

“Touch me,” Arthur breathes, and Merlin complies.

As always, Arthur fits perfectly into his hand, hot and full and flushed to the tip. Merlin coaxes him gently with his fingers, using the oil from the nightstand to stroke him long and slow. Usually, when they do this, Arthur is too impatient to allow much caressing, too concerned with appearances to submit to foreplay, and Merlin seizes the chance to take his time, working his golden king into a writhing, gasping mess without interference. Arthur is beautiful like this, so vital and responsive under Merlin’s hands, and for the first time Merlin allows himself to feel what it was like in those long, frozen, Arthur-less days, not knowing whether the prince was dead or alive. 

They had come so, so close to never getting him back.

Shuddering, Merlin sucks kisses into Arthur’s neck, new bruises covering the old, and laves his tongue over Arthur’s scars: the new ones where the skin is still tight and sensitive; the old ones, now mostly faded. 

“Maybe I should just leave you here,” he muses eventually, sitting back to admire his handiwork. Arthur looks utterly debauched, chest heaving, his straining erection on prominent display. “You’d make a fetching centrepiece.” 

“You do, and I swear you’ll be in the stocks till doomsday,” Arthur threatens, glowering at him.

“Big words for a man who can’t even get out of bed.” But Merlin shuffles closer anyway. He can feel Arthur’s sudden tension, like he’d forgotten he was tied up, but as soon as Merlin’s lips close around the head of his cock he loses all inhibition, fucking up into Merlin’s mouth with a startled sound before coming spectacularly down his throat. 

“Fuck– Mer– untie me,” Arthur growls, and Merlin undoes the restraints with a flick of his wrist, suddenly worried he might have gone too far. Fortunately, Arthur doesn’t seem to notice the magic, pinning Merlin to the bed with the weight of his body. His arse grinds punishingly against Merlin’s swollen prick.

“Fuck, I wanted you,” he mutters, his voice rough and somehow wrecked in the confession. “I’ve never– all I could think about was how much I wanted you with me and how glad I was that you weren’t there.”

“Arthur.” Merlin’s breath hitches. 

“I kept waiting for you to find me.” Arthur’s mouth, hot and wet against his own, kissing the taste of himself from Merlin’s lips. “Knew you’d come bursting in like a fool, free me with your magic– ”

“ _Arthur_ ,” Merlin groans again, shock and fear mingling with the guilt as Arthur, ever the opportunist, chooses that moment to slip a hand into Merlin’s breeches. 

“Merlin.” And this time, Arthur is smiling, no longer silent, something whole and real behind his eyes. “You reckless little idiot. Did you really believe I didn’t know that it was you?”

 

5

 **Title:** (spell)bound

 **Warnings:** (more or less involuntary) voyeurism (if listening to someone shag counts as _voyeur_ ism), barebacking (due to canon setting), pining

 **Pairings:** Gwaine/Lancelot, Merlin/Arthur

_ They’re mesmerising _ , Lancelot thinks.

Of course the knights all know about Merlin and Arthur – how could they not? You just had to watch them for about a minute to  _ know _ .

And yet, knowing is one thing. Hearing, on the other hand...

It’s not like the two of them put on a show on purpose. It’s just that with all the longing glances and not-so-subtle head tilting, it cranks up the sexual tension in their little campsite, so all of them go to bed much more excited than they’d like.

They’re not too far from the castle tonight, and could’ve easily gone back before dark. But they all rather fancied staying outside for the night and escaping the stifling need for etiquette at the castle.

Especially Arthur, who’s been working twice as hard since his father fell ill, needs the break. Leon suggested they roast the rabbits they caught over the campfire, and catch new ones for the castle tomorrow. Arthur had grasped the excuse readily.

Now, Merlin and Arthur are tucked away in a shadowed corner of the camp, huddled close together despite the warm air of a midsummer night. It’s not uncommon that they set themselves apart from the rest, but tonight, for some reason, Merlin fails to stay quiet, and Arthur fails to silence him.

Lancelot’s got first watch, but he’s sure none of his comrades are sleeping either. 

Earlier, Merlin practically sat in Arthur’s lap, and no amount of ale could make you look away when Arthur undresses Merlin with his eyes. No matter how good the wine, it couldn’t distract you from the way Merlin’s eyes burn with desire whenever Arthur licks grease off his fingers.

After turning in for sleep, it only took a short while before the first quiet gasps could be heard. They were barely audible. Lancelot even strained his ears to be sure that they were what he thought they were, rather than an approaching enemy with some kind of respiratory affliction.

Since then, the gasps have turned into low moans, loud enough for anyone in the camp to hear.

Lancelot knows he ought not to eavesdrop, but what’s a man to do when he’s got the chance to find out how two of the people he loves most sound in the midst of— passion?

“Arthur,” Merlin moans, louder than before, and another moan answers him – but it’s not in Arthur’s voice.

Lancelot looks back towards the camp. He can see that Leon’s right hand’s inside his breeches, moving. Lancelot swallows thickly, and looks away to give Leon the small bit of privacy he can.

Another groan echoes from the corner where Merlin and Arthur lie, and then the slick sound of skin on skin can be heard clear as a bell.

Lancelot’s hard, but he daren’t touch himself while he’s on guard. He’ll wait until his shift is over, and then satisfy himself before going to sleep. Or so he thinks, when a hand covers his mouth, and another cups his prick through the fabric of his breeches.

“You’re a crap guard if I could get to you this easily,” Gwaine whispers into Lancelot’s ear. “Poised to catch every last sigh and whimper of them, aren’t you? It’s like you’re spellbound.”

He’s right of course. Lancelot was so focused on ignoring his arousal that he forgot everything else. He couldn’t hear anything besides Merlin and Arthur for however long they’ve been at it, and hadn’t looked at the camp since he spotted Leon for fear of finding another one of his friends pleasuring himself.

Gwaine’s presence, however, is not at all unwelcome. 

“Can you blame me for being distracted?” Lancelot whispers back once Gwaine takes his hand off his mouth. “They’re not exactly quiet.”

“No, they’re not,” Gwaine agrees, and rubs his hand over Lancelot’s prick.

Lancelot gasps, and quickly bites his fist to keep quiet. The camp’s tense enough with just the noises from Merlin and Arthur, it doesn’t need Lancelot’s or Gwaine’s as well.

Gwaine nips at Lancelot’s earlobe, and moves his hand inside Lancelot’s breeches, better to wrap his hand around his shaft and start to stroke him. Lancelot can’t help but rock into Gwaine’s hand, and finally he releases the tight grip he has on the pommel of his sword, and reaches back for Gwaine’s prick to return the favour.

They’re each not who they truly want, but since neither of them can have Merlin – or Arthur – they’ve sought out one another more often than not. Lancelot turns his head, now, giving up entirely on the pretense that he’s still watching out for the camp’s safety, and kisses Gwaine. 

Another loud moan, and then Arthur’s voice, hoarse and breathy all at once, gasping Merlin’s name is what tips Lancelot over the edge. The stain in his breeches will be hidden by the dark fabric, and the chainmail, but he isn’t even thinking about that at the moment. As soon as his thighs have stopped trembling, he turns and falls to his knees to take Gwaine into his mouth.

Gwaine comes moments later, spilling between Lancelot’s lips. Whether it’s from Lancelot’s tongue that dipped into his slit, or the sound of Merlin reaching climax, Lancelot doesn’t know – nor does he care.

He laces up Gwaine’s breeches, and gets back to his feet. He’s pulled into another fierce kiss before he finally pushes Gwaine away.

“I need to get back to my post,” Lancelot says, not without regret. Curling up with Gwaine is tempting, but he has a duty. 

Besides, neither of them agreed to anything more than mutual pleasure when they started this, each of their hearts bound too tightly to the ones they can never have.

_ Maybe it’s time to unravel that knot and tie new bonds _ , Lancelot thinks, and turns back to watch the dark forest around them, steadfastly ignoring the happy sigh of Merlin in the far corner of the camp as he kisses Arthur goodnight.

6

 **Warnings:** none  
 **Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur

Arthur had never seen Merlin without all their friends around. It was jarring to see him there alone, occupying a whole sofa by himself, quietly absorbed in his own little world. It should be so easy to walk up to him and fall into a conversation. They were friends of a sort, after all. But Arthur had always avoided one on one conversation with Merlin, and this should be no different. 

He couldn’t help but look from across the otherwise empty room as he sipped at his coffee. There had never been any opportunity to look as closely as this—always a stolen glance here and a brief look there. It was like being drawn to a painting in a gallery. Merlin bent over his book, the large windows behind him illuminating the space. Rain pattered softly against the glass.

“Arthur?” Merlin said when he inevitably noticed eyes on him. 

“Hi.” Arthur tightened his grip on the handle of his cup. 

“Wow. What are doing here?”

“Just needed a break. Read good things about it. You?”

“Same, actually.” Merlin gave a half-smile. “This is weird.”

“Yeah.” Arthur shrugged. “I can leave, if… if this is awkward?”

Merlin’s eyebrows rose. “No, of course not. Why would you leave?”

“I didn’t think I’d be one of the first people you’d want to see right now. Reminding you of… you know.”

“You’re not Lance, are you?” Merlin said, voice light. 

“No. His best mate, though?” 

“Can’t exactly punish you for that.”

God, Merlin was unfairly gorgeous. He was wearing a soft-looking knit sweater, long sleeves covering most of his hands. With the view of the forest through the windows as his background, he looked like a work of art, all pale and blue-eyed and kissable. 

It was a fate so cruel Arthur didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it. He’d taken time off work for the first time in years only so he could find some peace, and here it was: the ultimate torture. 

He and Merlin, alone at a remote bed and breakfast. 

“Let’s have dinner,” Merlin said, and Arthur couldn’t say no, didn’t know how. 

And he couldn’t look away from Merlin’s face as he talked over dinner and drinks, so close across the small table, so much like a date that Arthur’s heart twisted. It pulled him in, lulling him into a fantasy of what their first date might have been if he’d been the one to meet Merlin. What it would have been like if he was the one who introduced Merlin to their friends. He was deep in their fantasy life together when Merlin leaned across the table and whispered, “please come back to my room.”

There was a moment where Merlin was part his imagined boyfriend and part Lance’s ex, lines between fantasy and reality blurring. Merlin’s warm breath on his skin made him break out in goose bumps. 

Arthur’s heart hammered. Mates didn’t sleep with their best mate’s ex. Not even if Arthur had wanted Merlin since he first saw him. Especially not since the first time Arthur saw him was when Lance pulled him into the room with a wide smile, introducing him as his new boyfriend. 

Dry lips suddenly brushed against his cheek and Arthur said something, something that sounded far-away and left his mouth without his control. It might have been “yes”. It felt like “yes”. It must have been because Merlin was guiding him away from their dinner table, walking closer than necessary, his body heat distracting. 

“I shouldn’t—” Arthur said, voice breaking, when Merlin closed the door to his room behind them. 

“Do you want to?” Merlin said, watching him with so much earnestness that Arthur had to look away.

He tried to say that it didn’t matter, that they couldn’t, that he shouldn’t be a rebound, but all that came out was a hurt sound. Because of course he wanted to. He _wanted_. 

Kissing Merlin was like drowning and floating at the same time. The light pressure of Merlin’s lips moving tentatively against his while his hands cupped his face made Arthur feel weightless. He clutched at the soft sweater, digging his fingers into it. 

Merlin looked into Arthur’s eyes, their faces close. “I’m not with Lance anymore. He doesn’t own me. I don’t care and neither should you.”

Arthur didn’t know if that was true, but he wanted it to be. So he let go, pushed Merlin down onto the bed and covered his body with his own. Merlin’s hands splayed out on his back, holding him closer as Arthur pressed hot kisses to his pulse point. When Merlin gave small, appreciative noises, Arthur tossed the rest of his control to the wind and sucked angry, red marks along his neck. 

He could kiss Merlin forever. His hot, plush mouth was better than Arthur had ever imagined. _Everything_ was better: The insistent press of his body pinned beneath Arthur; the desperate, dirty moans against Arthur’s ear; the whispered, “please fuck me”; the feeling of Merlin opening around his fingers. 

When Arthur finally pushed into him, he nearly tore apart at the seams. He shuddered, rolling his hips, sliding into the tight heat with a broken moan. Burying his head into the crook of Merlin’s neck, he gasped wetly into his skin as he fucked him. 

Arthur squeezed his eyes closed. “I’ve been…” He faltered, face burning at the words that wanted out. “I’ve been so mad that he found you first.”

Merlin’s arms tightened around his shoulders before one hand came up to twist into Arthur’s hair, urging him to look up. Catching Arthur’s lips in a soft kiss, Merlin rubbed a thumb against his cheek and held him close.

 

7

 **Warnings:** extremely dub-con due to a love spell, orgasm denial.  
 **Pairing:** Morgana/Sophia

“Túce hwón frec ðu, Morgana,” Sophia uttered slowly as she stroked over Morgana’s lips, her eyes glowing red, binding the princess of Camelot to her. “Þec feoh nom gyse. Cume morðor rice ær. Túce hwón frec ðu, Morgana.”

Heat rushed to Morgana’s cheeks. Suddenly she wasn’t afraid of Sophia anymore; she was enthralled by her beauty, longing for more of her delicate touch. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was still worried but she couldn’t remember about what anymore. She opened her mouth to ask but Sophia kept her fingers over her lips.

“Silence,” Sophia commanded, pulling back slightly, making sure Morgana’s eyes still followed her, that she was completely spellbound. “There, that’s better.”

Sophia collapsed back on Morgana’s bed, making herself comfortable. Binding a human to her required all her energy, sapped as it was from riding and running around the woods, attempting the same bindings on Arthur. Sophia stroked her hand over her chest, letting herself melt back into Morgana's luxurious pillows and letting her thoughts wander. It had been so long since she'd had time to herself, to be free and indulge in such mortal carnality.

“Come here,” she said idly, catching the attention of her new slave again. She was beautiful, when she wasn’t glaring and threatening to expose her. And she was definitely more beautiful with the glowing red eyes of someone that would obey her every whim. She drew up the hem of her golden dress, revealing her thighs and her cunt before she let it drop again, gathered over her belly, giving her slave another command; “Feast.”

Morgana watched herself helplessly as she crawled over the bed and between Sophia’s bared thighs, taking in her cunt like she was a work of art, even though she’d never seen another woman bared before. There weren’t even paintings or carvings of such, not in Uther’s court. 

Despite not having a clue what to do, Morgana found herself magically pulled down to Sophia’s cunt, softly licking her, quickly learning what she must do to please her new mistress. Morgana tried to whimper wantonly, so turned on by how she was servicing her goddess but no sound came out from where Sophia had commanded her silence. Instead, she looked up at her with big desperate eyes, begging to be told what to do.

Sophia sighed distractedly but she gave in and nodded her permission. “Touch yourself, if you must but don’t make a sound. I don’t want your father or mine finding us because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”

Morgana frowned in confusion. Her father was dead. King Uther was merely her guardian. But when she opened her mouth to say so, the words stayed in her throat and Sophia’s eyes glowed red again. “Mouth. Shut.”

She pushed Morgana’s head back down, riding her lips until it wasn’t enough anymore and she had to release her from that last vow, giving her back her tongue so she could make good use of it. 

“If you make a sound...” Sophia threatened, pushing her face into the pillow to muffle her own whimpers as Morgana sucked at her clit, her hand slipped under her dress to touch herself, her whole body moving as one with Sophia’s as she came, barely containing her scream of pleasure. It wasn’t right that humans could feel something so magical, so divine. It was like seeing the Gates of Avalon themselves.

She lifted her head up, still floating on bliss as she watched Morgana openly touch herself, sensing the same pleasure inside her that Sophia still felt the echoes of. It wasn’t for mortals to experience that little death. They did not deserve it.

Her mouth twisted into a cruel smile, her voice the softest but most brutal command, testing the strength of the bond between them. “Stop.”

Morgana pulled her hand away from her cunt like it burned, helpless against Sophia’s commands, unable to even make the smallest sound of frustration.

“Good girl,” Sophia purred, pleased with her work, the binding spell worked like a charm. Now to use it on her truly intended.

 

8

 **Title:** Religio  
 **Warnings:** (discussion of) Major character death, ritual blood and gore  
 **Pairings:** Arthur/Merlin

Latin: _re_ (again) + _ligare_ (to bind)

_‘The omens are in favour,’ says the haruspex. His victim had been lively; its spurted blood is clotting down the front of his toga. He taps at the still-steaming liver, circling out regions that the untrained eye cannot distinguish._

_‘Then it must be done,’ says the man._

‘You’re insane,’ spat Merlin. He set the fasces onto the desk, taking unconscious care with the protruding axe’s blade, and flung the crimson sagum from his shoulders. 

‘Don’t,’ said Arthur.

‘I’m not letting you do this.’ Merlin whirled around, gripped his shoulders; shook him, hard. ‘It’s my duty to protect you. I took the vow. It’s my –’

‘And it’s _mine_ to protect Rome. The people –’ 

_They bring his toga praetexta and the pontifex. They drape a fold of the heavy wool over his head and cover a fist with the purple border. The pontifex bids him stand on a spear, and moves his covered fist to his chin._

_‘You are certain?’ asks the pontifex._

_‘I am,’ says the man._

‘How could you be so…so…’ Merlin saw the careful _dignitas_ slip from Arthur’s face like a mime’s mask, and his chest throbbed at the sight.

‘I’m sorry,’ Arthur whispered. He took Merlin’s hands. In the lamplight, he glowed with the golden earnestness of a man doomed. ‘I’m sorry we never –’

‘I can’t lose you,’ Merlin’s fury was crumpling, folding in on itself like molten ore.

_‘Then repeat after me,’ says the pontifex. ‘Janus, Jupiter, father Mars…’_

_The man’s face is drained of blood, but his voice throbs with_ auctoritas _. ‘Janus, Jupiter, father Mars, Quirinus, Bellona, Lares, Divine Novensiles, Di Indigetes, and Di Manes…’_

‘The gods demand this,’ said Arthur. ‘Our impiety will doom us. Our enemies have only multiplied –’

‘Fuck your gods.’

Arthur shook his head. ‘You don’t understand them, not having been raised here. They have their methods, their precisions, their thirsts.’

Merlin kissed him then. He clutched the golden skin, memorised the curves of musculature, tasted the desperate little sounds Arthur made into his mouth.

‘One last time,’ said Arthur. The skin around his eyes looked very pink. ‘Please, my –’

‘Don’t say that.’ Merlin kissed him. ‘Don’t say it like that.’ 

_‘…I invoke and worship you, I ask for and bear favour, as you may further the strength and victory of the Roman people, and may you afflict the enemies of the Roman people with terror, fear, and death...’_

He bared and lay Arthur on the cot, pink blushing into his golden skin like dawn spilling into the sky, before pulling off his own tunic. It was too squashed and rickety for the two of them, the military-issue mattress a lumpy affair. Arthur surged up to hold and kiss him with a methodical thoroughness, sketching the line of his cheekbones with execrated thumbs.

‘Do not weep,’ he said in a gust of air. ‘I want you to…’ He swallowed. He reached out and brought between their bodies the terracotta jar of lamp oil. ‘Do it to me.’

_‘…just as I called you, thus for the Republic, army, legions, and auxiliaries, I devote the enemies’ legions and auxiliaries to the Di Manes and Tellus – with myself.’_

‘I can’t,’ Merlin said. ‘You – you’re a _vir_ , a _consul_ –’

‘Are you not too a man?’ In the meagre lamplight, the guileless blue of Arthur’s eyes flickered in shadow. He butted his golden head against Merlin’s shoulder. ‘I want to have me before the gods do.’

How could you resist a request like that? Merlin pushed his legs up to expose the pink moue, tighter than a Vestal’s cunt, and opened it with methodical finger after finger. He was so tight, it took an age – the centuries flowed by; armies fought and died, cities rose and crumbled, nations grew and shrunk. A thousand years glided past, and they grew old and sat in the dying sunshine, wrinkled fingers entwined – 

‘Please don’t weep,’ Arthur said, but he was weeping himself. ‘I need you, I need you now –’

Merlin nudged inside. Arthur blossomed around him. It was a sight to behold, the tear-blurred gold-pink haze of his body, his kissed-dry lips opening around ecstatic gasps. _Next time_ … thought Merlin, then realised there would be none, and the tears soaked into the scruff on Arthur’s chest.

He didn’t know how long they spent joined, mingling their sweat and spit and souls, rocking gently into each other. The lamps’ tongues of flame fizzled out, the reservoirs of tears dried. Their orgasm was an afterthought, and left them inert and interlaced.

_They gird his toga about his armour and hoist him onto the awaiting horse. He looks out to the distant battlefield, a chaos of glinting iron and crimson wool lost among the swirling dust, and the more sinister shadow of looming men beyond. He looks down at the gathered men: the priests, the non-combatants, the lictors with the axes in their fasces._

They lay in the humid darkness.

‘I’ll stay tonight.’ Merlin kissed the skin behind Arthur’s ear. ‘The lads will understand.’

‘They knew all along, didn’t they?’ Arthur chuckled. ‘When Percival… _ah_ , of course.’ Then he stilled. ‘I want to keep you inside,’ he whispered. ‘I can feel it dripping out, but I want it – you – to be there when I go.’

They kissed again, languid. Now the initial grief was wearing, Merlin felt pride swell alongside it in his heart, bittersweet, for the brave, beautiful man who lay in his arms, so selfless and sublime. All his. ‘No one will forget what you will have done for us.’

‘Then I will live long in men’s minds.’

_His gaze holds momentarily on one of the lictors, dark and tousle-haired. He shifts in the saddle as though in shyness, then turns away. He draws his gladius and readies for gallop._

_‘For the people,’ he says._

_They watch him go, toga flapping behind, like a blaze of divinity. Then the lictors turn to trudge the news home._

_finis_

9

 

 **Warnings:** Slavery, humiliation, bondage  
 **Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur

Arthur Pendragon really hated how he had come to fear clothing. He could remember the days he expected to be dressed in the finest of fabrics, paraded around his kingdom with his head held high. It wasn’t that the clothing of Aigialla was ugly or uncomfortable. No, clothes meant that someone else would witness his defeat and humiliation. 

His master had left him kneeling on the bed, his wrists bound with rope. A chain led from his collar to the bed post, though Arthur wouldn’t dare to run. His months of torment had taught him otherwise. There was no escape from this hell.

His legs were starting to cramp up, as they normally did. He still refused to move out of fear. His master was not a forgiving man. He had ordered his pet to kneel, and that is what he expected. Anything less was met with swift punishment.

He couldn’t hide his look of relief when Prince Merlin walked through the doors. The Prince smiled at his slave. He was so good, listening to his master’s orders. 

“Are you sore, pet?” Merlin asked, “you look like you've been so good, you can rest.”

Arthur sighed happily, letting his body drop. He bowed his head to his master.

“Thank you, master,” he said. Merlin continued to smile, running a hand through Arthur's hair.

“You're going to go for a walk today. Isn't that exciting? You might even see some familiar faces,” he grinned. Arthur paled. Familiar faces were the last things he wanted to see.

Merlin pulled on the chain connected to Arthur's collar before the man could react, dragging the fallen Prince behind him. Arthur stumbled after Merlin, crying out in surprise.

Arthur kept his head down as Merlin led him through the halls, hoping that he wouldn’t catch anyone’s eye. It was successful, until Merlin said something that made his stomach drop.

“Ah, Lady Morgana. It’s a pleasure to see you today. You remember Arthur, don’t you?” Merlin said.

Arthur’s head snapped up, his eyes widening. Sure enough, Morgana was standing before him, smirking. Merlin had never told his slave about what happened to Uther’s ward. He would always smirk and change the subject. Arthur had always hoped that Morgana was free and planning a counter attack. It was his last shred of hope.

“Sire,” Arthur said, his voice cracking, “please, do what you want with me but let her go.”

Morgana and Merlin stared at him for a moment before they both burst into laughter. Morgana put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder, still giggling.

“Oh my, Merlin. You didn’t tell him yet?” She said.

She called his master by name. She put a hand on his shoulder. What was going on? Wasn’t she a prisoner here as well? She was wearing a beautiful dress, but perhaps the Ambrosius family was treating her better because she was merely Uther’s ward, not his child.

“No, I wanted it to be a surprise,” Merlin replied. 

“Oh, poor, poor Arthur,” Morgana said, putting a hand on Arthur’s cheek. Now he knew something was very off. His master never let anyone touch his slave. To Arthur’s horror, Morgana’s eyes glowed gold and the ropes around his wrists tightened. She pulled away, sneering at him.

“I was the reason Aigialla invaded Camelot. King Balinor was very kind to come save me from you and Uther. I owe him a great debt,” she hissed.

Morgana had magic. Now it all made sense, why Aigialla was interested in them in the first place. Morgana had summoned them. She had betrayed Camelot. 

“She belongs here, in Aigialla. She is home,” Merlin smiled. 

Any hope of rescue Arthur had was now gone.

There was no rescue.

He was forever bound to the mad Prince of Aigialla, now and forever.

 

10

 **Warnings:** Swearing, could possibly be interpreted as dubcon (but isn’t really).  
 **Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

*

Merlin grabs Arthur’s hair and pulls his head back towards himself as he slides back into the tight heat Arthur so jokingly had offered up for use a few hours earlier. Arthur grunts.

“Stay still, sweetheart,” Merlin says straight into his ear, making him shudder with pleasure. “I don’t want to hurt you, especially since it’s our first time and all.”

The sofa creaks underneath Arthur and when he shifts, he accidentally steps on one of the game pieces from earlier. It hurts like all heck. He hisses out a laboured “Shitfuck”, making Merlin huff with laughter and pause his movements.

“You…” he whispers.

“Mmm?”

“You’re such a…”

“Hottie?”

“No!”

Merlin bites the sweaty skin on Arthur’s shoulder blade and Arthur yelps with the unexpected pain. 

“No, I was going to say you’re a thoroughly silly person, really. You don’t need yet another person to tell you how pretty you are.”

Merlin stays with his cock halfway out of Arthur’s hole, more teasing than anything else. Instead of working on getting any of them off, he focuses on the same piece of skin he just bit, worrying it between his teeth and then soothing it with his tongue. It’s nice for a few moments, but then Arthur wants more and starts to push back onto Merlin’s cock.

With a gasp, Merlin grips Arthur’s hair again, this time tighter than before.

“Do you regret what you promised?” he says, voice unsteady.

Arthur lets out a small whimper. “No,” he breathes, “no, a promise is a--”

But when Merlin forcefully pushes back in and hits that spot, Arthur can’t seem to find the right word and it’s soon forgotten anyway.

Sweat is running down Arthur’s back and he knows his face must be flushed from both exertion and arousal. His cock hangs heavy between his legs and oh, how he longs to reach down and get himself off right this second.

But he did promise…

Merlin’s manages to hit the right spot over and over again, almost driving Arthur mad with it. He wants to see that magic cock up-close later tonight, wants to worship it as it’s surely meant to be worshipped.

He can suddenly feel Merlin tense above him and his hips jerk forward a few more times before they still.

It becomes quiet, only their harsh breathing disturbing the stillness.

After a few moments, Merlin pulls out, gives Arthur’s sweaty bum a few pleased pats, and goes to discard of the condom. Arthur slowly gets up from the strange position he’s been in. His cock is still flushed and erect, slowly leaking precum down his shaft. He slumps down on the sofa, closes his eyes, and waits for Merlin to come back and tell him what to do about it.

*

Later, in bed, Merlin sighs and turns toward Arthur.

“What a silly bet, really,” he says, “to promise to give up control to your flatmate for twenty-four hours.”

Arthur laughs softly, grabs Merlin’s hand and squeezes it gently.

“Well,” he says, “I guess we were bound to fuck eventually anyway, but I’m fairly sure this sped up the process.”

 

11

 **Warnings:** None  
 **Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur

Arthur wasn't allowed in the water—no one was—but that had never stopped him. He knew how to get out of the fortress and down to the fishing docks and into the bay without being seen.

Swimming was a small rebellion, mostly symbolic, but that was enough on most nights. It was a small taste of freedom, but that was all he needed.

He swam until he found a rock. It wasn't very large, not much bigger than his quarters back in the fortress, but it was there, jutting out of the water and offering a safe place to rest before he exhausted himself and drowned.

Arthur climbed up onto the surface and nearly slipped right off again when he saw that someone else was already there.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

The man was lying the in the center of the rock, as naked as Arthur was, and staring up at the moons. He propped himself up on his elbows and offered a smile.

"Where'd you come from?" he asked curiously.

"Who are you?" Arthur asked again, drawing himself up to his full height.

"Merlin," the man said, unthreatened. "Who are you?"

"Arthur Pendragon."

Arthur waited for Merlin to panic appropriately, but there wasn't a flicker of recognition on his face.

"How did you get here?" Merlin asked, sitting up.

"I swam," Arthur said, confused. "How else?"

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Well, I took my boat because we're quite far—"

"How do you have a boat?" Arthur demanded. There hadn't been a boat in these waters in over a hundred years.

"I built it," Merlin said, smiling as if _Arthur_ were the strange one.

"You built it," Arthur repeated incredulously. "Who are you?"

"I'm Merlin, as I said." He stood up and came over to Arthur, proving that he truly had no idea who Arthur was—no one who knew would come so close without a clear invitation. "Are you him?"

"I'm… who's him? Are you expecting someone?"

"I wasn't, but… well, you've heard the prophecy, haven't you?"

"What prophecy?"

"The meeting of the worlds."

Merlin looked excited and their eyes met and Arthur felt a little jolt in his stomach. Merlin's eyes were so blue, even in the dim moonlight, and his smile was bright and his ears stuck out but his cheekbones were divine.

Merlin moved closer and before Arthur could really register the further invasion of his personal space, they were kissing.

No one had ever, ever touched Arthur so freely before. Even his lovers knew their place and let him take the lead. Merlin was eager and greedy and exploratory and demanding and _so_ good.

Arthur gasped as Merlin closed the gap between them and their cocks rubbed against each other.

"It's you," Merlin muttered nonsensically as he wrapped a hand around both of their cocks.

Arthur groaned and captured Merlin's lips in another kiss. Merlin worked them over quickly and soon Arthur's legs were trembling with the effort of standing. Everything was going so fast but it all felt so inexplicably right, and it all felt like it was happening because it was meant to happen, like there was no other choice, like Arthur was being pulled forward towards one undeniable end, and that end was Merlin.

"Merlin," Arthur managed, his knees jerking and threatening to give out.

Merlin sank down onto the rock, pulling Arthur with him. Arthur clung to Merlin's hips, trying to hold onto something as his focus started slipping, as his thoughts started spinning, as his grip on his self-control loosened a little for the first time in his life.

Merlin pushed him onto his back and straddled his thighs, and the sight of Merlin on top of him was enough to push Arthur over the edge. He dug his fingers into Merlin's sides as he came, gasping and panting and struggling. Merlin followed with a grunt and then everything slowed down.

The rock and the sky and the moons blurred and tilted, and Arthur wondered if he was passing out. Then he heard Merlin whispering and he looked down to see Merlin licking their mess off his stomach, muttering something that sounded like a prayer.

Arthur closed his eyes and waited for his pulse to slow and his breathing to even out, and when he opened them again, the world had righted itself.

Merlin was smiling and he gave Arthur a long kiss. "Come with me on my boat," he said as if the very suggestion weren't treason.

Arthur chuckled and traced a fingertip over Merlin's plump lips. "Who are you?"

"I'm Merlin. And I'm inviting you on my boat. If you're allowed?" he asked, suddenly serious.

"Allowed?"

"To cross the border. No ever has, so I assumed…"

A shiver ran down Arthur's spine. "The border," he repeated, trying to comprehend.

"It's not really a border," Merlin admitted. "Just an… imaginary boundary. An understanding."

"There is no border," Arthur said slowly.

"Not physically, no, but—"

"No," Arthur cut him off. "There is no border. No boundary. No understanding. What you're talking about, it… it doesn't exist. It doesn't… there's nothing there.There's nothing there. It just off-limits. For our protection."

Merlin frowned and Arthur pushed him away and stood.

"You're crazy," Arthur decided, heading to the edge of the rock. He needed to get back to the fortress.

"I can show you," Merlin said quietly.

Arthur turned to see Merlin standing on the opposite side of the boulder, his body long and lean and glimmering in the light of the moons.

"Come with me."

Arthur looked back in the direction of his home, of his father, of the countless rules and restrictions and lies. Then, he looked at Merlin and the chance of something more, something different, something with unknowable possibilities and dangers and excitement, something limitless.

"Is it safe for me?" he asked.

Merlin smiled. "Only one way to find out."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold the porny entries for week four of the 2017 Pornalot fest!
> 
> Each entry has individual warnings but they have not been mod-checked so proceed at your own risk.
> 
> Please vote for your favourite entries! All you need is an LJ account :D You can vote [HERE](http://pornalot.livejournal.com/13015.html)

12

 **Warnings:** Human/Selkie pairing, I guess?  
**Pairings:** Gwen/Morgana

Gwen thinks little of the sealskin she finds on the beach, she's scarcely had time to tuck it away under the floorboards before there's a knock at the door. It's not so strange to find something so elegant on the beach, there's shipwrecks or people that carelessly throw things overboard. Besides, it looks a bit crude and worse for wear after its time in the briny water.

Morgana comes to her as a tired traveler, wearing just a shift and a sly smile. Gwen ushers her inside immediately and insists she warms herself by the fire. Morgana doesn't say anything about a young woman living so alone so near the sea, but instead listens to Gwen prattle on about the weather and anything that comes to her mind. The new guest is amusing and Gwen laughs when she makes a strange face upon first sip of her tea. 

From that moment, Gwen never asks Morgana where she comes from and Morgana stays. It seems the natural course of action.

"I will never be fully yours," Morgana confesses one night, the first night she presses Gwen down onto her small bed in the corner of the cottage. She kisses her deeply and it tastes perhaps too much of salt. It's like the deepest bit of the ocean and drowning deeply.

"I don't need anyone to be mine." This answer comes too late, after Morgana's lifted Gwen's night shirt over her head and moved it aside. Morgana herself is already undressed, she makes a habit of wandering around in nothing or little to nothing when she can. Gwen has never minded, and she certainly doesn't mind when she can experience this.

They cling to each other closely- Gwen hesitates and then melts into the touch when Morgana slips two fingers into her, thrusting them slowly at first. The sensation feels like the waves lapping on the shore, and she's the waiting beach, always a bit too far out of reach. Morgana is not one to take, which is strange for Gwen, who's always been a giver, she just touches and whispers against her skin and seems to revel in the idea of having the ability to touch another person. Morgana's always looked more like an elegant lady than anything else, and she wonders if she's been starved for affection for perhaps too long.

It's only after a few moments of insistence that she pushes Morgana away gently, smirking to herself. She straddles her, rubbing herself against her leg only for a few moments when she discovers the friction and the joy that brings. Morgana's hands settle on her waist, guiding her as she moves. She's intent on something else, moving down her guest's body and tasting her, licking against her rosy cunt, teasing a tongue against her clit. The taste is nothing she'd expect, it feels warm and comforting and she's again reminded of the feeling of drowning.

When Morgana releases, it's with a shudder and a gasp, no great to-do or shout, just the sensation of relief and the calm after a storm. It's peace that Gwen only knows on quiet mornings after the water's rolled and brought up a hundred year's worth of debris. Morgana looks tired and sated, but resumes her ministrations, the rhythmic fucking of her lover with her adept and agile fingers, her thumb rubs her clit, increasingly insistent, rising like the pressure of the tides. Gwen's too given in to pleasure to do more than writhe and feel, she gladly drowns and noiselessly screams, letting it fill her lungs as she succumbs to the all encompassing pleasure.

She only faintly hears and does not process that Morgana whispers gently against her skin, a reverent kiss to her beach pebble smooth beauty. The words will haunt her one day, but for now all she can think of is sleep.

"I am bound to the sea," she had said, "and though I love you, I can never be yours." There was no need to process because after that night, she knew Morgana would stay. They shared the small cottage and Morgana helps with the Garden and learns to knit. Though she often stares out into the ocean, she never offers to go with Gwen when she takes the dingy out to fish, but instead waits patiently at the shore, barely letting the waters tease her toes. They spend their days working and cooking and laughing and their evenings listening to the sea or reading in the dying light. At night they sleep or fuck on the small bed, after their first encounter, the urgency for touch never truly faded. Eventually the storms come, awful and terrifying things that nearly destroy the garden and one evening bring a tree down on their home. After seven long years those words Morgana uttered on their first night make sense and frantically, with her heart pounding she tears up her floorboards, leaving the tiny cottage a wreck. Both the sealskin and Morgana are gone and a calm day on the horizon.

 

13

 **Pairing:** Arthur/Merlin  
**Warnings:** none

The house is perfect. It has a warped roof, old wooden stairs that creak under your feet and an enchantingly overgrown rose garden in the back. Merlin fell in love at first sight. It's also extraordinarily cheap, the reason for which the estate agent explains with an awkward face. Merlin smiles brightly and asks her how fast he can move in. 

His own haunted house. Merlin is completely over the moon.

His friends, who help him move in, are less enthusiastic, but Merlin isn't about to be deterred—not by their doubtful faces and not by the iron frying pan that comes sailing his way as he puts the kettle on that evening. 

Being a little magic himself, Merlin usually feels comfortable in an environment brimming with paranormal energy—only it seems his local spook is holding a grudge like no man's business. The flickering lights don't bother Merlin, and neither do the groans echoing down the hall at night, but when his toast ends up charred and his tea mysteriously goes cold, he's getting a little annoyed. 

Next he can't find his keys.

Merlin rolls his eyes. “Don't you think that's a bit cliché?”

His answer is a flat tire on his scooter.

“Now that was uncalled for!” Merlin yells in the direction of the house. “Ever heard of friendly co-habitation?” 

*

His friends try to convince him to move out when he tells them about the shenanigans, but Merlin waves them off. “It's harmless, really. And I love the house. I'm not going anywhere.”

Of course that night he comes home to the windows open and the house freezing cold. Also his toiletries have all been emptied into the sink.

“Oh my god, how old are you? Twelve? What's next? A frog in my bed?”

With a grating sound, toothpaste letters appear on the mirror. 

IDIOT 

Merlin grins as he dips his finger in the goo and writes: PRAT

*

Merlin knows his friends think he's just too stubborn to admit that renting the house was a mistake, but the truth is, he's becoming fond of his spook. Yes, he's a bit of an ass—and Merlin can't quite say why he's sure the ghost is male—but he's not truly malicious. 

Only then he makes the mistake to bring home a date. Brandon has been pushing for Merlin to invite him over to his place, but the evening turns into an absolute disaster. The whole house keeps rattling ominously. The food is inexplicably oversalted to the point where it's inedible. And when Brandon magnanimously waves away Merlin's apologies and pulls him in for a kiss, the open wine bottle topples over and pours itself all over him. Then the lights go out with a bang.

Brandon is so freaked he storms out without even picking up his jacket. 

When the door falls shut behind him and the lights turn back on, Merlin is fuming. 

“You're an asshole, you know that?” he yells at the room, frustration bubbling over. “Just because you're dead, doesn't mean I don't get to live my life!”

The silence that follows is absolute. 

The next day, Merlin's toast turns out perfect. It tastes like sawdust. 

*

The ghost is finally leaving Merlin be, but all it does is make him feel lonely. It doesn't help when he answers Brandon's phone—which he left in his jacket—and finds out he has a boyfriend.

“Look,” Merlin begs after a whole week without moving furniture or the radio changing the station by itself. “I shouldn't have said that. It was mean. I'm sorry.”

“He was a wanker,” a voice comes from behind him. “You deserve better.” 

Merlin jerks around and catches sight of the fading silhouette of a blond man, sitting on the sofa, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Hey, wait! Are you—“ But the apparition is already gone. “I don't even know your name.”

*

That night he has an incredible dream. He's in bed with someone, but Merlin doesn't quite know whom. All he knows is that there's a blond head between his legs and his cock is in hot, wet heaven, broad hands caressing his thighs and ass. He's rocking his hips, desperate to get deeper, wanting to fuck that glorious mouth, but when he reaches down, his hand meets nothing. 

Blinking his eyes open, Merlin finds himself in his room, dark apart from the moonlight that paints silver stripes on the floor. There's no one there, and he's left hard and aching.

“Please,” he whispers into the darkness, and the next moment he's clawing at his sheets as a firm hand wraps around his cock. 

His cheeks are spread and cool air hits his hole, followed by something warm and wet, licking at him and working him open. He moans and writhes and then comes on that ghostly tongue, shaking and weak like a newborn foal. 

“Jesus.. that was... amazing,” he croaks. 

“I thought so, too,” a smug voice says.

Merlin sucks in a sharp breath. “Who—” He swallows, eyes searching the seemingly empty room. “Are you—?”

There's a long moment of silence, then, “My name is Arthur.”

Merlin jumps when a face appears above him, tousled, blond hair falling into the man's face.

“This is my house. Has been for over a hundred years.”

“But—you're a ghost.”

“Not quite. I'm bound by a curse.”

“A curse—?” 

“Shhh.” Arthur presses his fingers against Merlin's lips. “It's a secret. I can't tell you.” He bends down, his mouth soft and slightly cool against Merlin's own. “You taste amazing,” he whispers. “I can taste your magic. If only I had known...”

He sits up, starting to fade again, his crooked smile wistful now.

“Wait—“ Merlin tries to pull him back but grabs only at thin air. “How can I brake it?“

“You already know.” Arthur's voice drifts from across the room. “There's only one way to break a curse. If you believe in it...”

 

14

 **Title:** Share my destiny  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur  
**Warning:** open ending

Merlin heard the noise way before Arthur found him but as he was eating, he barely reacted. A unusual weakness for him but he was so hungry nothing else mattered.

Merlin only realised Arthur was there when he heard the gasp.

He let go of the rat and turned to see Arthur at the base of the stairs leading to the basement.

“Arthur?”

Arthur didn’t answer but came closer and looked at the dead rats on the floor.

Merlin panicked. His best friend wasn’t supposed to see him like that. Not Arthur, not so soon.

“It’s not what…”

“It’s not what I think?” Arthur asked, his voice calmer than Merlin expected. 

“Hum… Yeah?”

“Merlin, if you think I don’t know what your are, you’re just an idiot.”

“You know?”

Merlin couldn’t believe what Arthur was saying. He had been so sure his secret was safe.

“Of course. And I also know you’re hungry though I don’t know why.”

Arthur was now standing just next to Merlin who was still kneeling on the floor, the dead rats around him.

“Let’s say the food is not always easy to find.” Merlin explained, standing up. 

“It isn’t?” 

Merlin couldn’t believe he was really having that conversation with Arthur who seemed really interested. Since they had known each other in high school, Merlin had done his best to hide his true nature to his friend, so sure Arthur would be disgusted or afraid. 

“Do you think we have supermarkets or things like that?”

“You don’t?”

“I think you have a lot to learn about… us.”

“Merlin, you can say it, you know. Vampire.”

“Sorry… I didn’t think you’d be so… cool about it.”

Arthur smiled. 

“Merlin, we’re friends for 12 years. You were already a vampire back then. It doesn’t change anything for me. Apart from the rats, though. I’m not that fond of the idea that you’re eating rats.”

“I’m not eating rats!” Merlin exclaimed outraged. “I’m just drinking their blood!”

“Not sure it really makes a difference, you know. And I thought you needed human blood.”

“We need it but we can survive with animal blood for some time.”

“Oh… And how do you… hum… Find your… Preys?”

“Arthur, I understand you curiosity but would you mind if we went back to the flat rather than have that discussion here… in the basement, with the dead rats.”

“You’re right. I’ll make us some tea.”

***

A few minutes later, Merlin found himself on the couch , sipping his tea.

“So…” Arthur said after a few minutes of heavy silence. “How do you manage?”

Straight to the point. Merlin supposed he earned Arthur the truth.

“Most of the time, I found them in clubs or bars. With enough alcohol they become pliant enough for me to drag them to an hotel room. And then we have some light drugs to make them forget what happened during the night. They will blame it on the alcohol.”

“Oh.” Arthur seemed disappointed. “It’s quite sordid.”

“Yes, it is.”

Merlin saw no point in denying it. He had learned to accept his condition and all that it entailed. He need to drink human blood to survive.

“And most of us don’t have any choice.”

“Most? Do you mean some vampire can survive without human blood?”

Merlin was still amazed how natural the word seemed in Arthur’s mouth.

“No. They find themselves a chalice.”

“A what?”

Merlin realised he shouldn’t have mentioned that.It would only lead to more questions, some Merlin wasn’t sure he wanted to answer.

“Arthur, aren’t you supposed to go out with Lance tonight?”

“He cancelled. Gwen isn’t feeling well and he wanted to stay with her.”

Merlin sighed. Arthur was a stubborn man and he wasn’t going to let go before he had all the information he wanted.

“So, are you going to tell me what a chalice is?”

“It’s like a companion for the vampire. A human that is bounded to the vampire and will serve as a blood reserve.”

“Why don’t you have one?” Arthur asked.

“Because a chalice is not just a permanent source of food. Like I said it’s a companion. The chalice and the vampire are linked, they share a very deep bond. The vampire can’t drink someone else’s blood after he’s bonded to his chalice. And the chalice will live longer than a normal human… You see, it’s not something you do lightly.”

Arthur didn’t say anything then. He was clearly pondering what Merlin had just said.

They finished their tea in silence. Merlin didn’t know what to do. Was the conversation finished? Was Arthur still thinking about what Merlin had told him? Outside, the sky was getting darker. 

Finally, Arthur spoke again.

“I could become your chalice.”

“What? Are you mad?”

“I want to help you.”

“Didn’t you heard what I said? The bond between a chalice and a vampire is not about help! It’s not even about friendship. It’s probably even deeper than love!”

Arthur laughed then. His soft laugh that meant he thought Merlin was an idiot. 

“Merlin… Are you still convinced were just friends?”

“Of course we are!”

“33 years old friends who are living together, who haven’t dated anyone in years, who spend evening cuddling in the couch, who cook their favourite dishes for each other, who go out dining every two weeks… We’re just not kissing but we’re clearly dating.”

This time, it was Merlin’s turn to stay quiet. Arthur was right. Their relationship wasn’t one of two friends. Was it enough to share a bond like the one of a vampire and his chalice? In all these years, Merlin had never even thought about that possibility. Having someone to share his destiny, someone who could understand him, someone to protect, someone to love.

“I…. I’m an idiot.”

“Yes. But you’re my idiot. And my vampire?”

“Yes.”

 

15

 **Pairing:** Arthur/Merlin.  
**Warnings:** dub con sex, non/dub-con soulbond.

“Emrys.” 

The soldiers bowed their heads he passed, but Merlin kept walking. One of them grabbed his hand, pressing his lips to the back of it. He paused, and let them show their reverence. They had earned his regard. 

“You fought well.” The soldier’s face lit up. “Now go. Celebrate.”

Merlin made his way towards his tent which was set right beside the King’s. It was his rightful place. King Cenred was waiting outside it. 

“Merlin.” He clapped him on his back, drunk on the victory. “Just the man I was hoping to see. We should drink a toast to the victory.”

“Later, Cenred.”

“Alright. I want thank you for all you did today. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

“No. You couldn’t have.” Camelot’s forces were strong, and their leader formidable. Cenred’s army wouldn’t have stood a change, not without Emrys on their side.  
Speaking of... “What about my prize?” 

Cenred leered, gesturing towards Merlin’s tent. “Waiting for you inside, wrapped and ready.”

Merlin felt his pulse quicken. This was the fruit of all his struggles, the moment he had been waiting for. Impatient, he dismissed the King and entered his tent.

The sight took his breath away. In the middle of his bed, gagged and bound, lay the Prince of Camelot, Arthur Pendragon. He was gloriously naked, his sun kissed hair and skin shining in the filtered sunlight. Red ropes were binding his limbs to the bedposts and Merlin laughed at the red ribbon tied to the base of his erection; he had to commend Cenred on his creativity.

“Rise and shine.” Arthur jerked at his words, fighting against his binds. “Don’t do that. You will only hurt yourself.” The ropes were infused with magic, and would only unwind at Merlin’s command. But it would be a lie to say Merlin wasn’t enjoying the way Arthur’s body looked as he contorted and struggled.

“Oh aren’t you beautiful.” Merlin took off his scarf and moved closer. “And all mine now.” Merlin trailed his fingers over Arthur’s flesh, laughing at the look of outrage on the man’s face. That needed to change. He cupped Arthur’s face, letting his magic simmer to surface. Arthur’s body tensed suddenly and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Merlin didn’t have to look down to know that the man would be painfully aroused now.

Merlin felt the same way.

Arthur closed his eyes, not meeting his gaze, and Merlin softened his expressions. “Don’t be ashamed. It’s a natural reaction…” he waited till Arthur looked at him. “… to an unfinished soul-bond.”

He felt cruel at relishing the look of panic on Arthur’s face, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. “I do apologize for initiating it without your consent… but in my defense, we were in middle of a war.”

Merlin took off rest of his clothing and joined Arthur in bed. Now that he let himself feel the gaping hollow of unfinished bond, he was loathe to part from Arthur skin. The touch soothed the ache, even as it inflamed it more. It must be a hundred times worse for the mortal, and he enjoyed watching the play of rage and want on Arthur’s face as he tried not to melt into his touch. “Oh don’t be like that.” Merlin cajoled, wrapping his fingers around Arthur’s engorged cock, and Arthur whined as he thrust into his grip. “I am doing this for us. It is our destiny.”

He let his fingers wander farther, into the warm cleft between Arthur’s legs, pressing gently against the tight opening. Arthur moaned, quickly losing the fight against Merlin’s onslaught. “That’s better.” One of his hands wandered over Arthur’s skin, pinching his nipples, as he murmured a lubrication spell and inserted a finger into tight, welcome heat. 

The next moan came from both of them.

“That’s it. Give in.” He removed Arthur’s gag and turned until he was looming over the Prince, bending to press their lips together. It was hardly a kiss, both of them panting too much to do more than breathe against each other. “Give over to me, Arthur.”

Merlin positioned himself and entered Arthur with excruciating slowness. There was barely any resistance, Arthur’s body opening up to him much like his soul had. He felt his magic rejoice at the joining, simmering under his skin, and he let it crackle under his fingers as he wrapped his hand around Arthur, moving it in sync with his body.

But not enough to give Arthur relief.

Arthur was thrashing on bed, mindless with want. Merlin’s length must have served to fill the void inside him somewhat, but Merlin knew it would have only intensified the ache. Arthur looked at him then, begging. “Please. Please.”

“Not yet.” Merlin watched tears bead in the proud Prince’s eyes. “Not until you give me what I want.”

“Anything. Just make it stop. Please.”

“You just need to say yes, Arthur. Just let me in, and I will make it better.”

Arthur’s eyes were glassy, his body overstimulated. Merlin knew it wasn’t fair, not when Arthur didn’t know what he was agreeing to, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He aimed his next thrust, slamming into Arthur’s sweet spot while stroking him at the same time, and Arthur screamed. “Yes.”

And Merlin was in.

His magic buried under Arthur’s skin, wrapping around Arthur’s very soul now that Arthur had given it permission, binding them both in ancient spell that would weave their lives together, this one and all the others to come. 

Arthur screamed under him, his body going rigid, ready to burst. When he climaxed, Merlin was right there with him, crying and laughing through the aftershocks. He unwound the ropes from Arthur’s limbs, and curled around him, letting slumber take over. Arthur wasn’t going anywhere anymore.

Distantly, he wondered what would’ve happened if he had gone to Camelot like his mother had wished, instead of joining forced with Cenred. He didn’t linger on the thought… he preferred these set of events anyway.

 

16

 **Title:** The Mile High Club  
**Warnings:** None  
**Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur, Gwen/Lancelot

“I don’t know why this was necessary,” groused Merlin as they climbed the stairs to the Pendragon Industries private jet. “Couldn’t we have just got on a normal plane, like normal people?”

“ _Mer_ lin, my father insisted. I could hardly say no, could I?” Merlin made to interrupt him. “Besides, if I have a choice to travel in economy or by private jet. I’m going to go with private jet every time thanks!”

Merlin sighed and followed him into the jet. He’d been surprised when Arthur had lead him through a private airline lounge immediately after they’d arrived at the airport and out to the tarmac. He was sure they’d be flying first class to their honeymoon and he could have accepted that, but a private jet just seemed like too much. Still, he held his tongue, not wanting to cause an argument. He ducked his head as he went through the door and looked around. It was like a movie set, rather than real life. He could barely believe it was actually real and that they were actually going to fly in it.

Arthur flopped down into one of the seats and gestured for Merlin to take the one opposite.

The flight attendant, a pretty woman with curly brown hair and caramel skin, greeted them carrying a small tray with a bottle of champagne and two flutes. 

“Good evening Mr Pendragon and Mr Emrys. Welcome aboard your Pendragon Industries flight. My name’s Gwen,” she set down the tray and filled their glasses passing one to each of them and leaving the bottle on the side table. “We will be taking off shortly and would appreciate you buckling up for take off. If I can be of assistance, please let me know and I will be happy to attend to any needs you might have.”

Arthur curled his fingers around his glass and took a sip. “Thank you, Gwen. We’ll be sure to let you know.”

Soon they were flying and Merlin watched excitedly out of the window as London grew smaller and smaller below them. Arthur watched him for a while with a secret smile and then leaned forward and gave his husband a chaste kiss. That seemed to bring Merlin back to earth and he grinned at Arthur happily, eyes sparking.

“I can’t believe we finally did it,” Merlin murmured into their kiss. “No more planning and worrying.”

“Yes, Mr Pendragon. You’re all mine now.”

“Oi! I never agreed to Pendragon!”

Arthur threw back his head and laughed. “I know, but I’m still going to try and talk you into it.”

With a teasing smile, Merlin huffed a laugh. “Possessive prat.” He tipped back the rest of his glass of Champagne and set it down on the table and then took Arthur’s from him. “There is _one_ last wedding related thing we haven’t done yet.” He leaned close to him and gave Arthur a passionate kiss.

Arthur grinned into the kiss, his hands sneaking up Merlin’s thighs. “Yeah? What’s that then?”

“Well, since you insisted on dragging me away from the reception straight here, we’ve not had a chance to…” Merlin sighed and sunk back into his seat. “Well, I guess it will keep until we get to the hotel.”

Arthur eyed him contemplatively and his eyes flicked towards the open cockpit. “Can you keep quiet?” He asked, sliding to his knees in front of him.

“Arthur!” Merlin hissed. “Gwen and the pilot are _right there_!” He jerked his head back behind him towards the cockpit.

Ignoring him, Arthur deftly undid Merlin’s trousers and pulled them down and clean off his legs. He was commando and Arthur buried his face in Merlin’s crotch, inhaling deeply. “Commando, you _naughty boy_.”

Merlin’s cock twitched against his cheek. Arthur smirked as he glanced over to the cockpit again before lifting Merlin’s legs over his shoulder and taking Merlin into his mouth. Merlin arched his back and gripped the arms of the chair, then started to thrust his hips; fucking into Arthur’s throat. He bit his lip and tried to calm his rapid breathing. Arthur encouraged his thrusts, pushing and supporting Merlin’s arse with one hand, whilst the other snaked into his pocket and thumbed open a tube of lube. His ran his slick fingers along Merlin’s crack and slid one inside his hole. Merlin’s eyes went wide and he choked back a groan; thrusting faster, harder and deeper into Arthur’s mouth. Arthur slid in another finger and scissored, then crooked them upwards and Merlin gasped; bowing his body away from the seat. He shoved the back of his hand into his mouth to muffle any sounds. 

Arthur pulled off with a wet pop, and kept fucking Merlin open adding a third finger as he fiddled with his flies and shimmied out of his trousers and boxers. He turned Merlin to kneel and bend over the seat of the chair. Then he rained kisses down his back before pushing in with one sharp thrust.

Merlin did cry out at that and clawed his fingers at the leather seat. Arthur covered his mouth and ‘shhh’ed him. They both stayed still, ducked behind the chair and when they were sure they’d not been caught Arthur started moving again, thrusting his full length in and out, pausing for a moment with just the head of his cock inside before slamming in again, something he knew drove Merlin crazy. 

Merlin cried out, unable to keep quiet as Arthur hit his prostate over and over before coming with a shout all over the leather chair. Arthur wiped away the sweat beading on his forehead and grasped Merlin’s hips, thrusting into him, Merlin sounded out little ‘ah, ah, ahs, before Arthur stilled and came deep inside Merlin and they collapsed together on the chair. 

There was silence then, except for the hum of the plane; and quiet sighs and gasps and a woman’s voice whispering; “Oh _Lancelot_!”

 

17

 **Warnings:** None  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

Night fell. Vision blacked out by the cloth tied too-tight over his eyes, Merlin only knew the difference by the chill on his skin as the sun crept below the horizon. He shivered and the iron chains holding him to the pole, holding his magic inside, rattled without budging.

They wouldn’t loose until after next midday, when the embers had died off and they could be stripped away from his charred bones. Perhaps later even than that, if the king decreed that more wood should be stacked on to make the flames burn hot and leave none of him behind.

Since he could still feel the sweet ache of Arthur inside him, he was sure Uther would give that order.

Publicly, his crime was simple: he had magic and he had used it in the presence of the king and prince. Nothing more was required for his sentence, though people were bound to speculate that he was a spy sent to infiltrate Uther’s household. Some might even go so far as to wonder if he’d enchanted the king or his heir.

It was what Uther believed, why Uther would see him burnt to ash. What Uther had walked in on, a scene he would never allow the people of Camelot to learn about, had been enough to convince him of that.

They’d been in Arthur’s bed, as they usually were. Merlin’s was too small, too uncomfortable, too close to snooping ears. Usually no one dared enter Arthur’s chambers without permission, so they hadn’t held back in seeking their pleasure.

Arthur was beautiful and golden on his back against the crimson sheets, his skin glowing with sweat that caught the warm light of the magic flowing from Merlin’s hands to wrap around the prince’s arms and legs. If he’d resisted, Merlin’s magic would have held him; but he didn’t resist. He submitted to his servant, his lover. He let Merlin pin him down with tendrils of power and ride him however the warlock desired - which that day was slow and deep.

He took his time lowering himself onto his prince’s cock, savoring the buildup of pressure against his hole until the head popped inside, and then stayed there, feeling Arthur twitch with the restrained desire to bury himself in Merlin. He pressed a new band of magic down across Arthur’s hips to keep him in place; Arthur cursed and praised him in the same breath.

He sunk inch by inch, taking his time to let Arthur’s fat cock stretch him open until he’d taken it in as far as it could go, Arthur’s thighs flush against the swell of his ass, so full he could have cried from it. There, again, he waited. He let the burn fade to an ache before moving again, and even then he wasn’t willing to give up much ground.

Shifting his weight more than actually pulling off, he rocked his hips forward just enough to feel the drag of Arthur inside him. Just enough to light up that spot that sent shivers of pleasure through him. Then he rolled back, reclaiming his throne atop Arthur and setting off another spark of bliss.

Again and again, he worked himself on Arthur. So deliberately that he almost tortured himself as much as Arthur, he rode the prince and sent his ecstasy spiraling upward without limit.  
Arthur broke first - he always did - and started finally to struggle against his bonds. “Please, Merlin,” he urged, just shy of begging. “Harder, faster, please!”

That was when Uther had burst in on them, seeking Arthur’s opinion on some minor matter Merlin had never heard the details of. He never would. Uther had dragged him out and ordered him into irons immediately and Merlin, stunned and focused on Arthur, hadn’t fought. In what seemed like moments, he’d found himself clasped to the pyre post, his shame on display for all but him to see.

Sometime after dark, when the unusually subdued sounds of the courtyard had faded, a solitary set of footsteps came from the castle doors toward the platform hosting Merlin’s final night. They didn’t stop when they reached the edge, but climbed over the stacked branches awaiting morning light and stepped up beside him.

He knew the hands that reached to undo his blindfold, but he dared not believe it until he could see the proof. Illuminated by cold moonlight, silver instead of the gold Merlin was so used to seeing wash over him, stood Arthur. And at his brow, drawing Merlin’s gaze with how harshly it glinted and sparkled, was not his own circlet but the king’s crown.

“Arthur?” He had to drag his voice up from the depths. “What have you done?”

Arthur’s hand came up to cradle his cheek and he pushed into its welcome warmth, but kept his eyes open and on his lover’s face; he’d been in darkness so long.

“He’s alive, just confined. Deposed.” For as momentous an act of revolt as he was admitting to, Arthur’s voice was strong. “I told him he could not have you, and the knights and most of the council stood with me. Camelot is mine.

“You are mine,” he added, even fiercer, and pressed himself to Merlin for a kiss that warmed away all the night’s chill. His tongue pushed hot into Merlin’s mouth, licking away the bitterness of fear, then teased back to draw Merlin out, let Merlin claim him in return. They tangled so together until Merlin was breathless, and when he backed away from the kiss, Arthur dropped to his knees and took Merlin’s soft cock into his mouth without so much as a warning.

Merlin found he had some air left after all, enough to cry out as Arthur’s tongue laved across the sensitive slit and made his cock jump. His chains rattled when he forgot and tried to bring his hands forward to Arthur’s hair, but he could wait.

He and his king had all the time they needed ahead of them.

 

18

Warnings: roleplay (medical play, rape play), bondage  
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur

**Shame**

Wrists aching from being pressed into the mattress, breath leaves him in harsh puffs with each of Arthur’s wild thrusts. His mind brings out one of his fantasies, changes their surroundings, the whole situation. It switches Arthur’s heavy breaths for threats and slurs, the soft bed for cold ground. 

He tries to stop the thoughts, but they come back. They spur his arousal. Make him spill faster. He wants to beg Arthur for more but shame keeps his mouth shut. 

 

*

 

“I was thinking we could play a bit,” Arthur says, thumbing a long strip of soft fabric.

 

*

 

“Please, no,” Merlin mumbles, words escaping his fantasy, slipping into reality in the midst of intense pleasure. 

“What’s wrong?” Arthur asks, slipping out of Merlin and reaching for Merlin’s bound wrists. 

“No, I…” Merlin’s already sex-flushed skin reddens even more. “I’m fine. Go on.” 

“Are you sure?” Arthur asks, wary. 

“Yeah,” Merlin says, hooking his leg around Arthur’s thigh, pulling him closer.

 

*

 

The girl on the screen struggles, tears sliding down her face, as her attacker forces himself on her. It’s awful. Horrible to watch. And yet Merlin’s cock hardens in his jeans. 

The scene fades to black. To avoid suspicion, Merlin forces himself to sit through a few more minutes of the movie, his body tense, before he slinks to the bathroom. Cold water does nothing to ward off the shame coursing through his veins. 

 

*

 

“A bit of roleplay might be fun,” Arthur says in the middle of dinner, completely casual, as if it was their usual topic for Wednesday evening. 

“What do you mean?” Merlin asks, taking a sip of his wine.

“You know. Doctor’s appointment, horny repairman, master and slave. That sort of stuff,” Arthur says. “I’m sure we’d come up with a scenario that would turn us both on.”

It could be his chance to get what he craves, but shame bears down on him, blocking his throat.

 

*

 

Cum splattered all over his stomach, his hole fluttering around the toy in brief spasms of the fading aftershocks, Arthur is a sight to behold. 

“Your prostate seems to be in perfect working order, Mr. Pendragon,” Merlin continues his act. “It’s time for the flexibility test.”

He watches Arthur press into his touch, to shiver as Merlin drags his latex clad fingers over his body. He listens to Arthur’s moans.

“Yes, doctor. Harder, doctor. Please, doctor.” 

Arthur overcame his shame, laid himself bare, shared one of his deepest desires. It’s time Merlin did the same. 

 

*

“I want to try rape play,” Merlin says in lieu of greeting the next evening, not giving himself a chance to chicken out.

“Okay,” Arthur says, surprise evident on his face, and puts away his briefcase. “Dinner first?”

 

*

 

“So…” Arthur starts, breaking the slightly uncomfortable silence. 

“It’s…” Merlin glances up and averts his gaze again. “I know it’s weird. Maybe we shouldn’t do it.” 

Arthur takes his hand, caressing it soothingly. 

“It’s not weird,” Arthur says. “Unusual maybe, but not weird.” 

Merlin takes a deep breath, rubs a hand over his face.

“I don’t know why it turns me on” Merlin says. “Rape is horrible. I would never want it to happen to me. But those fantasies always come when I’m trying to get myself off,” Merlin continues, shame colouring his cheeks once more. “Sometimes even while you fuck me.” 

“We’ll make it work,” Arthur says, smiling. “Just tell me what you’d like me to do.”

“I don’t want it to hurt,” Merlin starts. “Not the sex, at least. You can be rough a bit though. Also...”

 

*

 

“Stop struggling,” Arthur growls. “It won’t help you escape.”

He shoves Merlin to the ground, kneeling on his back and tying his wrists together and then to a pipe near the wall. 

“How should I take you? On your back? Or just like this?”

He trails his fingers over Merlin’s face, tracing his lips. Merlin goes for a bite, but Arthur snatches his fingers away just in time. “Front it is then.”

He doesn’t waste any time, drags the jeans halfway down Merlin’s legs and pulls him up to his knees.

“No, don’t, please” Merlin gasps, trying to move away, but Arthur’s grip on his hips is stronger. 

“Be nice and you might even enjoy it,” Arthur sneers, giving his own cock a few strokes before he presses its head to Merlin’s opening.

“You monster,” Merlin gasps, his safeword for everything is fine, and Arthur pushes in.

Merlin can’t stop the small noises escaping him with every Arthur’s thrust. Arthur is ruthless, not giving him any time to adjust, fucking him through the achy discomfort of not being stretched enough, the position allowing him to bury his cock up to the hilt in Merlin’s hole. 

“Please, stop,” Merlin pleads, making Arthur speed up his movements. 

“So tight,” Arthur moans. “Too tight.” 

He covers Merlin’s back with his body, snapping his hips in shorter, sharper thrusts.

“I’ll have to stretch you before I take you again. To make it last,” Arthur says, one hand wrapped around Merlin’s stomach, pulling them closer together. “I’ll use my whole hand. Or maybe something convenient you have lying around.”

“No,” Merlin moans, his cock dripping precum onto the floor.

“Baseball bat would be perfect,” Arthur adds, his breath hot on the side of Merlin’s neck.

“Oh my god,” Merlin gasps, slumping further forward. “Please,” he begs, this time for real, and somehow Arthur knows, wrapping his hand around Merlin’s cock. 

“You’d be nice and loose afterwards,” Arthur says, his breath hitching as he nears his own peak. “Locked up right here, waiting for me, always ready, always dripping my cum.” 

Merlin cries out, spilling over Arthur’s fingers. 

“Fuck,” Arthur gasps and comes, letting go of Merlin’s cock to brace himself on the floor, to stop himself from collapsing on top of him.

 

*

 

“Okay?” Arthur asks after he unties Merlin’s hands and spoons Merlin on the camping mat which was given the role of hard ground.

“Perfect,” Merlin says, pulling Arthur’s arm around him and linking their fingers together.

The shame isn’t gone completely, but with Arthur’s help he’ll get there.

 

19

 **Warnings:** This could probably be classified as blasphemy…  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

”Sor— sorceror!” Arthur stuttered as he stumbled back and away from Merlin, his sword raised and ready to defend himself.

Merlin, who’d just singlehandedly defeated an entire gang of bandits and who was now sporting a set of white wings that extended out from his back, turned around to face Arthur as if he’d forgotten he was there in all the turmoil.

“I am _not_ a sorcerer,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Sorcerers don’t have wings, you clotpole. Did your tutors not teach you anything? I’m an angel.” He shifted his wings a bit as if that would empathise his point.

Arthur still did not lower his sword.

Merlin sighed. “I suppose I had better explain.”

“That would be preferable,” Arthur said and watched as Merlin’s wings disappeared back into his back as if they’d never been there in the first place, leaving only two holes in his tunic where the wings had broken through.

“Well, uhm. You see,” Merlin started, scratching his ear. “This had all been so much easier if your father had not preferred to keep it a secret. I told him you’d find out sooner or later, and I am really a crap liar so—”

“ _Merlin_.”

“Right. The truth is that I’m actually a guardian angel assigned to keep you alive until you are old and grey. Or at least until you’ve achieved your purpose.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes. “My purpose?”

“Unite all of Albion. Achieve peace. You know, all those grand sorts of things.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, yes, I know,” Merlin said, flailing his hands awkwardly. “When I first met you I thought there had been a mistake, and I was all but ready to quit and get assigned some other idiot. But then you had to go and be noble, and what do you know, there’s actually a heart of gold beneath the pratty exterior.” Then he smiled at Arthur in that endearing way Arthur was completely unable to say no to.

Arthur sighed and lowered his sword, and Merlin’s smile transformed into one of those grins that rivalled the sun in intensity.

-ll-

“Arthur knows,” was the first thing Merlin said to the king when they arrived back in Camelot.

Uther looked from Merlin to Arthur and back again. “I thought we agreed to keep it a secret.”

“Not at the expense of Arthur’s life,” Merlin said which Arthur’s father had to concede. 

“Very well,” Uther said after Merlin had somehow won a staring contest between the two. “I suppose we’d better introduce you to the court properly, then.”

And so it was done next time Uther held a council meeting. Merlin showed them his wings and assured them he was no beast sent to destroy them all. Geoffrey of Monmouth supplied them with historic descriptions of other angels that had appeared in Albion, and then, when the councilmen were still vary, he quoted the bible, though Merlin later assured Arthur that being a messenger of God and a guardian angel were two different things.

Nonetheless, having a guardian angel was both frightening and reassuring at the same time. It was frightening to know Arthur had been chosen for some grand destiny he had all chances of failing, but reassuring because Merlin would be there with him every step of the way as he’d been since he first came to Camelot. There was solace in the thought that Arthur would never be alone again even if everybody else should abandon him. 

The only problem was that Arthur’s desire for Merlin didn’t lessen now that he knew he was an angel and therefore even more off-limits than he was before. It didn’t help that when they were away from Camelot, Merlin would often sit in the sun, his shirt off and his wings spread out to gather up as much energy from the sun as he could. Arthur couldn’t help watching him, wondering what it would feel like to let his fingers glide over Merlin’s feathers – if they were as soft as they looked. 

“You can touch them if you want to,” Merlin said once he noticed Arthur was staring at him during a hunting trip that had turned into just relaxing in the woods. “I don’t mind.”

Arthur hesitated. Then slowly he reached out his hand and touched Merlin’s feathers. Merlin closed his eyes and gave a pleasant sigh, moving his wings as if he were a cat stretching into Arthur’s ministrations. Arthur almost expected him to purr. He didn’t though, instead there was a slight moan, the kind Arthur might have uttered himself during a massage, and yet, despite its platonic nature, the sound sent blood rushing to Arthur’s cock. 

He retracted his hand as if burned, and Merlin opened his eyes to look at him. His eyes fell on Arthur’s crotch where Arthur’s clothes did nothing to hide his embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said. “I… I didn’t mean for that to happen.” 

Merlin tilted his head. “Why are you apologising? It’s only a human body’s natural reaction to desire.”

“That’s why I’m apologising. I didn’t mean to bother you with my… unnatural desires. Or feelings. I know they are wrong.”

Merlin smiled softly. “Love is never wrong,” he said, his hand reaching up to lay flat against Arthur’s cheek. “Don’t be fooled by stupid human laws.”

“I…” Arthur said, at a loss for words.

Merlin shut him up with a kiss that was sweet and tender and had Arthur kiss him back just as softly. It didn’t stay that way though. Merlin’s hands reached for Arthur’s tunic with more fervour than Arthur would have expected from a being that was supposed to be pure in its very nature.

They were naked in no time with Arthur laying on their discarded clothes and Merlin covering him, his wings spread out above them in bliss. But despite the extra appendages, Merlin looked as human as any other man when he came inside Arthur a little while later.

 

20

 **Warnings:** Harry Potter AU  
**Pairings:** Arthur/Merlin

Dragonwarts University was not as much fun as Hogwarts.

Firstly, Merlin had Cedric as a roommate. Cedric had taken a liking to Merlin, which was a Very Bad Thing. Merlin was trying desperately to get rehoused, but so far hadn’t had any luck. Twice he’d woken to find Cedric standing at the end of his bed. Cedric claimed it was Twilight-like romance at work. Merlin knew it was just creepy.

Secondly, there were the classes. Merlin was majoring in potions which was fine because he was brilliant at it. But to earn extra cash he had to help Professor Gaius out with the elementary level classes. This meant he was tutoring Cedric and also Arthur. Both of them were quite dire at the subject and Merlin despaired of them ever passing.

Arthur had been quite distant since they’d arrived at university. They’d been best friends at Hogwarts, so the change was a shock. Merlin wasn’t sure what he’d done. He missed Arthur hugely. Cedric was no substitute.

“You could give me extra lessons,” Cedric suggested in class one day. That was creepy. Even Arthur looked disgusted. But then Arthur often looked at Cedric with disgust.

“I’m too busy and tired,” Merlin told Cedric. “You keep disturbing my sleep.”

Arthur had been carefully measuring out 10ml of newt’s blood, but he paused, obviously listening. Cedric glanced down at Merlin, smiling smugly.

“But you look so sweet when you’re asleep, Merlin. Those little sounds you make…”

There was a loud crash as Arthur managed to step back and knock a pile of books off the adjoining desk. Cedric smirked, and continued.

“I bet I could make you sound even sweeter…”

“No,” Merlin said firmly. “I’m not interested. Stop harassing me.” But Cedric was edging closer.

“Come on, you don’t know until you’ve tried it. Tonight we could push our beds together…”

Suddenly Arthur was between them.

“He said no!” Arthur snapped. “Merlin, I’ve got plenty of room. Stay with me until you find somewhere.”

Merlin couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do. “Thanks, that’d be great.”

Cedric glared at them but moved away, working on his potion at another desk.

“I thought you liked him,” Arthur admitted. “You two seemed close, and he’s been saying you’re a couple. Until now I thought you were.”

“Never! God, he has this birdman costume, Arthur. He’s scary. And he pretends he’s a crow or something. He stands by my bed watching me sleep.”

“Scary. I won’t do that.”

Which was a shame, Merlin reflected. He wouldn’t mind waking up to Arthur. 

Cedric had his back to them but Merlin could see his potion was going a strange shade of green. The mild healing potion they were working on was supposed to be a pale yellow. He didn’t want to go near Cedric, but he knew he had to intervene.

“Cedric, that potion’s all wrong,” he warned.

“It’s perfect,” Cedric snapped. “Just need frogspawn…”

“That recipe doesn’t need frogspawn,” Merlin began. “Cedric… Shit!”

As the potion began to glow gold, Cedric picked it up and flung it at him. Arthur tried to push Merlin out of the way but the potion went all over them both. 

Merlin suddenly found himself in Arthur’s arms. Arthur, whose eyes were glowing as golden as the potion.

“No!” Cedric cried furiously. “He’s mine!”

“Golden eyes…” Arthur breathed. He wasn’t looking at Cedric.

Merlin knew he should investigate the potion, but all he could see was Arthur. Beautiful, brave, wonderful Arthur who was holding him close and gazing at him as if he were the most desirable thing ever.

“Let go of him!” came Cedric’s voice from seemingly far away. 

Arthur leaned in to kiss Merlin. It felt so right, as if a missing part of Merlin was slotting into place.

“Don’t!” Cedric wailed. “That’ll seal the soulbond!”

Suddenly Merlin realised which potion it was. But Arthur was kissing him and all was good.

“Stop!” Cedric yelled, as Arthur started to untuck Merlin’s shirt. 

“Yes, please stop! Or find a room!” Professor Gaius hurried over and started ushering Merlin and Arthur out of the classroom. “Good god! No! Not here! Oh, there’s a reason that potion’s banned. Go! The cure’s in that book I loaned you, Merlin. Use it. And in future keep dangerous spellbooks somewhere idiots can’t find them. And you” – he turned on Cedric – “are in a lot of trouble. Come with me…”

**********

Merlin was exhausted.

It had been four hours since they’d reached Merlin’s room, locked the door against Cedric, and proceeded to seal their bond with the most perfect sex Merlin had ever experienced. Not because of the bond but because he loved Arthur so much anyway. The bond was just a bonus.

Merlin’s shirt was lying on the floor with a huge tear down the back. Arthur had been very eager. It was the spell, of course, making him want Merlin. Merlin knew he should find the antidote immediately. But it was so comfortable in his bed, lying there with Arthur spooned naked, hard and hot against him. Merlin had never felt better. 

Arthur was currently exploring the taste and shape of Merlin’s left ear with his tongue. He was doing a remarkably thorough examination. Arthur might be happy enough under the spell but he was going to be so angry when it wore off. They might never get their friendship back.

“We should use the cure,” Merlin gasped. “I’ve got that book!”

“Never mind that,” Arthur murmured. “Let me love you again.” He nibbled on Merlin’s earlobe and Merlin shivered at the sensation. Arthur really was making it difficult to do the right thing.

“We should try the cure,” Merlin urged. “Accio book!”

The spellbook flew across the room and landed on the bed. 

“Expelliarmus!” Arthur countered lazily. The book slid down onto the floor.

“Acc…” Merlin began, but Arthur silenced him with a kiss.

“No,” Arthur murmured against his lips. “I love this. I love you. Please… keep the bond.”

And so they did.

 

21

 **Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur  
**Warnings:** none

The ceremony was about to begin.

“Where is Merlin?”Arthur called down the empty corridors, cape swishing around furiously with each turn. Everyone was already waiting in the throne room.

He’d checked everywhere. The library. His chambers. The kitchens. Merlin was nowhere to be found, and in mere minutes the ceremony would start.

And then he saw a flutter of wings.

Muttering an oath under his breath, he chased after the bird, which disappeared in an alcove just as Arthur rounded the corner.

“What are you doing, Merlin?” Arthur sighed as he came upon the black owl, who gazed up at him and cocked its head.

“That’s Arty, Arthur,” a voice called from behind him. “You still can’t tell the difference, can you?” Arty, Merlin’s owl, flew off. Probably to the throne room.

Terrific. Even the owl was going to be more punctual than them.

“Merlin,” Arthur hissed. “Where have you been—” He whipped around and stared at Merlin, who was dressed in midnight blue court sorcerer robes. Ygraine’s sigil hung around his neck. 

He was breathtaking. 

“So,” Merlin said as Arthur stood there, struck dumb, “how do I look?”

“You look…like you should have been at your coronation already.”

“About that…” Merlin’s gaze flickered to the floor. “Are you sure you’re making the right decision?” 

Arthur walked past Merlin and observed his kingdom through the window, the sun dyeing the city in a dazzling orange. 

Soon it would be theirs.

“I believe our story will become part of legend,” Arthur said as Merlin stood by his side.

“You mean I’ll be known as the clumsy servant who became your trustworthy consort, and you the bravest clotpole king in all of Albion?”

“No. Well…maybe. Minus the clotpole bit. But for ages to come, across every land, I’ll be known as the King of Camelot, the Once and Future King, and you the Consort to the King, Court Sorcerer of Camelot, the Once and Future Sorcerer.”

“The Once and Future Sorcerer?” Merlin’s eyes grew wide.

Arthur chest puffed out. “If I’m the Once and Future King, it’s only natural that you’re the Once and Future Sorcerer.” Arthur looked down at Merlin. “I can’t do it without you. If it’s now and forever, I want it to be with you.” He wrapped an arm tightly around Merlin, resting his head atop of his. “And so it shall be.”

“Because you declare it? You let that title get to your head,” Merlin said.

“Because our _destiny_ dictates it, if we are truly two sides of the same coin. And besides, I wish from the bottom of my heart to be bound to you.” 

“As much as that pleases me to hear, you sound a bit delusional.”

“Really, Merlin? I finally agree with you on all this, and you still complain.” Arthur grabbed Merlin’s shoulders and lightly pushed him into the wall.

“No! I’m not complaining. I’m very content.” Merlin furrowed his eyebrows. “It just seems too good to be true.”

Arthur leaned in, hands against the stone on either side of Merlin’s face, the space between them shrinking until their chests pressed together. “It’s all true, Merlin.” He hitched his leg between Merlin’s thighs. 

“Truly?”

“ _Yes_ , Merlin.”

“One can never be too sure,” Merlin said in a teasing tone, his grin all teeth. “Now that that’s settled, I think we have some time for me to prove how content I am.” Merlin bent down on the dirty floor, back against the wall, and started tuck Arthur’s chainmail, gambeson, and tunic back in his belt before untying the strings of Arthur’s trousers. 

“Time? We have absolutely none at all!” Arthur protested.

“But we do,” Merlin said, looking up as he sat on his heels, like he didn’t have to be at his own coronation. He pulled down Arthur’s trousers in one swift motion, an innocent expression on his face.

“We should already be there,” Arthur whispered urgently.

All Arthur’s resistance was lost as Merlin sucked on his own fingers, slowly teasing them in and out of his mouth. 

“I think you’re forgetting,” Merlin said as he reached around and circled Arthur’s hole with a fingertip before slipping inside.

Arthur moaned and let his head hit the cool stone wall, his crown slipping.

“Remember? I’m not half bad at magic,” Merlin said. Then he pushed further in, coaxing Arthur open, and at the same time he wrapped his lips around Arthur’s cock.

“What’s— _oh_ —that supposed to mean?” Arthur panted as Merlin fucked him—a long, tortuous motion that had him rutting against Merlin’s fingers—when suddenly Merlin hit that pleasurable bundle of nerves. He teased it over and over again and Arthur’s vision went blurry. Arthur gasped as Merlin sucked harder, keeping in rhythm with his relentless penetration.

Before Arthur could warn him, he spilled into Merlin’s mouth. He was covered in a sheen of sweat and his knees went all wobbly. He half-wondered if he would be able to walk, let alone run, to the coronation. 

Merlin promptly swallowed and licks his lips. As he eased out of Arthur, he laughed, giddy with excitement.

“You’ll see.”

*

“You never cease to amaze me, Merlin,” Arthur said.

They both stood at the open doors to the throne room, all the attendees frozen in time. Arty, who seemed not be within the magic’s influence, gave them a knowing stare. Or, at least, Arthur thought he did.

“I’m certain they’ll write books upon books of our adventures.” Merlin’s eyes shined. “Ballads. Plays. Even poems.” 

Arthur rolled his eyes before smiling fondly. He wouldn’t mind reading a poem if it was about the two of them.

Then time began once more and everyone turned to look in reverence at them both. Together, they strode down the aisle and towards their destiny, which shined brighter than any star and filled Arthur with a light he knew would last once and forever.

 

22

 **Warnings:** None  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur

Arthur stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. He reached down & gripped his cock, which was semi-hard. “Once more into the breach.” 

Despite being ready for this for what felt like ages, he couldn’t believe this would be his last adult film. He’d been working in the business for over 10 years.

When he’d told his boss, and friend, Gwaine he was retiring Gwaine was gracious enough to let him go immediately, even though Arthur was contractually bound for one more film. Gwaine changed his tune a couple of weeks later. Apparently, a new actor had insisted on doing a scene with Arthur. Gwaine was desperate to sign this bloke who, according to Gwaine, had the biggest cock he’d ever seen (“Swear to Christ Arthur for the first time in my life I wanted to go to church to properly praise God for the miracle that is this kid’s cock!”)

As Arthur stepped closer to the set Gwaine met him halfway. Trailing behind him was a lanky, young man with a beautiful head of thick brown hair, cheekbones that could cut glass, plump limps that Arthur could already see perfectly wrapped around his cock, and eyes so blue and gorgeous Arthur wanted to weep. 

“Arthur, this is Merlin Emrys.” Gwaine made the introductions.

Merlin’s lips curled up at the corners. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Arthur was struck dumb and mute. His dick went from semi-hard to hard in record time.

“Merlin you have the honor of being Arthur Pendragon’s last scene partner,” Gwaine said as they began the interview. “How does that feel?”

“I won’t lie. It’s really nerve-wracking.” Merlin’s cheeks reddened. “I’ve had some good sex in my life, but I never come harder than when I’m watching you on screen - your perfect body balls deep in another man and watching their eyes roll back in their head and wishing it was me.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Arthur muttered. 

“So, you’re ready to have Arthur fuck you senseless, huh?” Gwaine smirked.

A mischievous grin formed on Merlin’s face. “As much as I'd love that, I want to fuck Arthur.”

For the first time, Arthur’s lust subsided a bit. While he had no problem bottoming in real life, there was something about being that vulnerable that put him off from doing it on-screen, other than his first few films. 

Arthur tried to give Merlin a genuine smile. He didn’t want to say something that would be construed as divaesque and turn Merlin off. “Given that it’s my last film, I would kind of like-”

“To go out on top?” 

Arthur threw his head back and laughed. “Something like that.”

Merlin laughed with him and Arthur groaned. Was there nothing about this kid that wasn’t perfect and made him weak in the knees?

Gwaine clapped his hands. “Ok, you two ready?”

Without answering, Merlin got up and crawled in between Arthur’s open legs. Despite being a professional for many years, Arthur felt like he was close to coming already. Arthur was only slightly disappointed when instead of opening Arthur’s fly, Merlin reached up and took Arthur’s face in his hands and brought him down for a toe-curling kiss. 

They got up and both managed to get out of their clothes quickly. Arthur could truly feel Merlin against him. He gasped and pulled back and peered down.

Arthur looked from Merlin - who somehow looked debauched and shy at the same time - and back to his enormous cock. “ _Fucking_ Christ! Gwaine wasn’t kidding.”

Without another thought, Arthur got to his knees and worshipped Merlin’s thick cock. He cradled his balls as he licked him from base to tip before swallowing him down. 

“Oh, fuck Arthur!” Merlin moaned.

Arthur bobbed up and down as he savored the gigantic treat in front of him.

Sooner than he liked, Merlin lifted him up. He planted a dirty open-mouthed kiss on Arthur’s mouth before backing them up toward the bed and pushed Arthur down. 

Instead of putting his plump “made for a cock” mouth around his leaking member, Merlin pushed Arthur’s legs up and kissed Arthur’s tight, puckered hole.

With a wail, Arthur threw his head back.

Merlin gave short, kitten licks at first before he worked his tongue inside and fucked Arthur mercilessly with it.

Arthur was thrashing on the bed and felt like he was speaking in tongues. He could feel Merlin’s spit running down his crack and hear Merlin’s obscene slurps. Finally, he shouted, “Oh, God Merlin please fuck me!”

Merlin stopped his beautiful torture and hovered above him. “Are you sure?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely!”

Merlin grinned. 

He prepared Arthur and then turned him over. Merlin lined up his cock and started to push in.

Arthur arched his back up, but Merlin put his hand on the small of his back and pushed down. 

“That’s it, baby. Lay down.” Merlin took his time and once he was into the hilt he moaned and laid against Arthur’s back. 

Slowly, he pumped his hips and drove into Arthur deeper and deeper. The friction from the sheets on Arthur’s own straining cock and Merlin grinding into him was whittling away at Arthur’s control. It was too soon, but Arthur wanted to come so desperately. 

As Merlin picked up his pace and started to slam into him, Arthur’s whimpers grew louder. 

Leaning forward, Merlin licked Arthur's earlobe & whispered in his ear, “Come for me, baby!” He wrapped one arm around Arthur’s waist and pulled him up.

Crying out, Arthur started to spasm and came all over the sheets. Never in his career - or even in his life - had Arthur come untouched like that.

Merlin finally came inside him with a guttural groan. 

Arthur lay there in a daze. Merlin cuddled up next to him. “It’s a shame that this is your last movie. I would really love to do this again sometime.”

Turning his head - the only part of his body that could move - Arthur planted a passionate kiss on Merlin’s lips. He pulled back with a grin. “Oh, we will be doing this again, Merlin. My place...tonight?”

Merlin bit his lip and smiled. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment if you have time! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold the porny entries for week four of the 2017 Pornalot fest!
> 
> Each entry has individual warnings but they have not been mod-checked so proceed at your own risk.
> 
> Please vote for your favourite entries! All you need is an LJ account :D You can vote [HERE](http://pornalot.livejournal.com/13015.html)

23

 **Warnings:** Light Bondage(?)  
**Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur/Gwaine/Percival

Nothing says "I love you" more than a binding spell, especially when said sorcerer is immortal. But casting the spell during the start of some steamy stress relief? Now that's love :P  
Though were the collars really necessary, Merlin?

[](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/vanhelsing019/69987612/13190/13190_original.jpg)

 

24

 **Pairing:** Merlin/Gwaine

_Gwaine’s spent hours teasing Merlin, bringing him to the edge and dragging him back with no hint of release._

_Merlin’s wrists are tied, and there’s a silk ribbon placed over his eyes; they both know that simple things like this cannot keep Merlin restrained, but it’s the_ idea _that sends shivers down his spine._

_However, that pleasure left him a while ago. He’s growing impatient with Gwaine, as he only brushes against the parts of him where he craves touch the most._

_So it’s hardly his fault when his magic takes things into its own hands; it weaves between the strands of rope and the threads of silk and with no effort at all the bonds that hold him are broken. He grins, and he knows it’s a wicked thing, since Gwaine’s hands have stopped their slow, agonizing teasing._

_“My turn.”_  


25

 **Warnings:** themes of slavery/captivity  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur 

The winged beings were an elusive race, so much so that not everyone believed they existed, but it was common knowledge that many rulers offered a great bounty for them. Their abilities made them valuable to use in battle or have guard castle walls, among other things... but actual cases were extremely rare. Those who actively sought after them compared the task to finding buried treasure without a map, for there was no definitive account of where they lived. Each known capture had been found alone, seemingly lost, as if they hadn’t intended to travel so far, or been forced to. Their exhausted states helped to gain control of them, and there were no efforts to communicate their circumstances after that point.

Legend had it that they came from the highest mountain peaks, where they slept in caves and flew alongside dragons. As a child, Arthur had been in awe of these stories of flying people. He had even fantasized about befriending them, and growing wings himself! As he grew, however, he was taught that they were primitive in their language and beliefs, barely human, and not able to understand the importance of war and wealth... so it was impossible to effectively make allies of them. However, as a meek pup can be beaten into becoming a vicious guard dog, a winged being could be enslaved and then trained to reach their potential as a weapon. According to his father, this was the only way, and he should know... He’d been an owner of _two_ of these unique and rare slaves, but (shortly before Arthur’s birth) the male and female had escaped. To King Uther’s embarrassment and endless frustration, he'd not been able to recover them, nor replace them... and Arthur had never seen one with his own own eyes... _until now._

A winged male was bound to a wide tree, hands tied behind his back and wings crudely chained against the rough bark. As constricted as they were, it was clear how magnificent the span of those wings would be if he were soaring in the air, though the shining red stains on one wing hinted that he wouldn't currently be able to fly if freed. Those long barred feathers were similar in colouration to a hawk, or falcon - perhaps a Merlin; even the hood affixed over his head resembled what leather-smiths designed for those who practiced falconry. The great difference, however, was that such a covering was intended to calm birds of prey... but the state of blindness had the complete opposite effect here. Tears trickled down from beneath the stitched material, and the thin chest heaved with sobs.

Arthur, as uncomfortable as he was by the sight, couldn’t help but have his attention drawn further down the somewhat elegant figure, past the unusual markings and over the inky trail of hair that ran between those delicate hip bones... Face heating, he wondered if these people with wings were always nude, but then noticed the tattered fabric laying among the dirt and dry leaves. The hunters must have stripped him as he was put in binds, he realized, and his desire was replaced with another unexpected feeling - fury. His fingers twitched at his sword's hilt... He could... These improper thoughts were shook from his head when his father began to speak, _“My son... These hunters will be highly rewarded for their capture, and you will garner my generosity as well. This prize is yours, Prince Arthur. You are bonded as master and slave. It shall be your duty to tame this creature, break and train it, so that you may provide our mighty kingdom of Camelot with a valuable and powerful asset... Do you accept?”_

[ ](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/polomonkey/61312352/26786/26786_original.jpg)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment if you have time! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and show our dedicated porners some love! <3


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